MR.  FORTNER'S 


r&R 


GIFT  OF 

tv 


t  «w 


,  tfortner's 
Marital  Claims 

AND   OTHER   STORIES 


BY 

RICHARD   MALCOLM  JOHNSTON 

AUTHOR  OF  DUKESBOROUGH  TALES 
THE  PRIMES  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBORS,  WIDOW  GUTHRIE,  ETC. 


NEW   YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND   COMPANY 
1892 


COPYRIGHT,  1892, 
BY  D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY. 


PR&JTSB  AT  T^tf/     ,  ,''  c  rr  / 
APPLETON  PRESS,  U.  S.  A. 


PREFACE. 


OF  the  stories  in  this  volume  "  Mr. 
Fortner's  Marital  Claims"  now  appears 
for  the  first  time.  "  Old  Gus  Lawson  " 
was  printed  in  the  Century,  "  A  Moccasin 
among  the  Hobbys "  in  Lippincotf  s,  and 
"  Mr.  Joel  Bozzle  "  in  Dixie, 

R.  M.  J. 
Baltimore,  MiL,  July  75,  1892. 


438935 


OBJD 

Ax  Am*xi«*  cr  MK-  Jon.  Boozu.  125 

.-.-".  -•::--  - 

A  Scxi»ESt  TTU/  Mi.  T»Mir*KS  BTEK^.  -  : 


Mr.  Fortner's  Marital  Claims. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE  Fortners,  long  before  I  was  born, 
had  been  living  where  they  were 
when  there  occurred  the  incidents  de 
scribed  in  this  story.  It  was  two  miles 
above  the  village  of  Dukesborough. 
The  grove  of  lofty  red-oaks  and  chestnuts 
made  the  square  two-story  mansion  behind 
it  seem  low,  and  the  latter  would  have 
presented  a  better  appearance  from  the 
public  road,  two  hundred  yards  distant, 
but  for  the  lapse  of  years  since  it  had  been 
painted.  Yet  things  inside  and  all  about 
the  yard  were  clean  and  tidy,  and  in  the 
garden  farther  behind  were  some  rose 
bushes,  pinks,  jonquils,  and  any  quantity 
of  box.  Mrs.  Fortner  (Mirny  Pugely  that 
was)  born,  brought  up,  courted,  married, 


2        .flfor.  3Fortner's  dRarital  Claims, 

and  ever  continuing  to  dwell  there,  had 
often  complained  and  gotten  some  indefin 
ite  promises  about  at  least  one  new  coat 
for  the  house  and  one  of  whitewash  for 
the  palings;  but  there  they  stood  just  as 
they  had  been  standing  for  nearly  fifty 
years. 

The  head  of  the  family,  from  his  very 
youngest  manhood,  had  been  tall,  slen 
der,  dark,  and  religious.  The  wife,  of 
medium  figure,  slight  in  her  youth,  had 
now  a  little  rotundity,  owing,  others  said, 
to  the  good  living  she  had  always  had, 
but  more,  she  contended  although  smil 
ing  the  while,  to  the  work  and  the  anxie 
ties,  and  the  other  like  things  which  had 
been  her  lot  in  this  troublesome  world. 
Many  children  had  been  born  to  them, 
some  of  whom  had  died,  and  the  others, 
except  Martha  and  Mary,  the  youngest 
two,  had  married  reasonably  well  and 
settled  not  very  far  away.  Martha,  tall 
like  her  father  with  somewhat  of  his  se 
riousness,  and  Mary,  more  like  the  moth 
er,  were  both  old  enough  to  marry;  but 
one  thing  and  another  had  delayed  them. 


/Ifcr.  ffortner'0  Marital  Claims,        3 

Not  the  want  of  beaux ;  for  they  were 
handsome,  neat,  and  industrious.  But  it 
required  a  good  many  things  to  make 
a  matter  of  that  sort  seem  to  fit  satisfac 
torily  all  around.  Martha,  now  twenty- 
three,  had  no  fears  of  being  called  an 
old  maid  two  or  three  years  later  on,  and 
Mary,  nineteen,  merry-hearted,  rosy,  and 
round,  behaved  as  if  she  regarded  herself, 
and  expected  to  regard  herself  always, 
as  nothing  but  a  girl.  Both  knew  well 
enough  that  they  needed  to  be  in  no  great 
haste;  for,  after  providing  for  their 
elders  there  would  be  enough  of  land 
and  negroes  left  for  them  whenever 
it  should  be  time.  Besides,  they  were 
not  the  sort  of  girls  who  think  they 
must  surely  be  disgraced  if  not  mar 
ried  by  the  time  they  are  grown,  or  im 
mediately  thereafter.  True,  Martha  for 
two  years  had  been  having  her  preference 
among  the  young  men  who  came  to  the 
house,  but  nothing  definite  had  come  of 
it  yet.  She  waited  to  see  what  time 
would  do;  and  if  it  should  appear  that 
time  would  do  nothing,  then  she  would 


4        dfcr,  ffortner's  flfcarttal  Claims. 

consider  if   anything  could  be  done  with 
out  it. 

Received  into  the  church  when  so 
young  that  his"  experience"  had,  in  some 
portions  of  it,  to  be  told  by  his  parents 
and  other  friends,  Jeremiah  Fortner,  the 
older  he  grew,  brought  forth  more  and 
more  of  the  fruits  which  such  early  bud 
ding  had  promised.  Such  was  people's 
respect  even  when  he  was  a  child,  that  his 
Christian  name  was  never  shortened  to 
Jerry,  but  instead  was  softened  to  Jay- 
miah.  My  recollection  is  that  the  re 
cords  showed  that  when  he  was  made 
one  of  the  deacons,  he  had  only  just 
passed  his  twenty-fifth  year.  Miss 
Pugely  was  of  Methodist  people;  but 
she  had  made  no  delay  in  yielding  what 
ever  opposing  theological  sentiments 
she  may  have  believed  herself  to  have 
on  the  day  when  she  made  up  her 
mind  to  say  "yes"  to  Jaymiah  Fortner's 
offer  to  make  her  his  wife — that  change 
being  one  of  the  conditions  which  she 
had  to  consider;  and  she  made  as  good  a 
Baptist  as  any  who  had  been  born  so  in 


/tor.  tfortner's  Marital  Claims.        5 

that  whole  congregation.  As  for  her  hus 
band,  there  were  some  persons,  in  time 
counting  in  himself,  who  almost  be 
lieved  that,  if  every  other  pillar  in  that 
church  were  to  give  way,  whether  from 
too  much  sap  or  from  dry-rot,  or  any  other 
cause,  Jaymiah  Fortner  alone  could  keep 
the  tottering  frame  from  falling.  They 
used  to  tell  an  anecdote,  which,  although 
it  may  have  not  much  to  do  with  this 
story,  I  will  relate  just  to  show  how  con 
scientious  he  felt  himself  bound  to  be 
in  his  high  official  position.  One 
Saturday  morning  not  very  long  after  his 
elevation  to  the  diaconate,  he  was  ob 
served  to  limp  somewhat  and  to  be  pro 
foundly  dejected  all  during  the  forenoon 
service  in  the  meeting-house,  and  he  was 
no  better  in  the  fore  part  of  the 
afternoon  conference.  This  was  the 
title  of  the  gathering  at  which  used  to 
be  settled  businesses  of  many  kinds, 
denominational,  social,  and  domestic. 
When  such  affairs  as  were  then  on  hand, 
after  the  usual  prolonged  discussion,  had 
been  disposed  of  in  ways,  some  expect- 


6        dfcr.  tfortner'0  Marital  Claims. 

ed,  others  quite  the  contrary,  and  when, 
adjournment,  which  the  young  people 
as  usual,  were  longing  for,  seemed  to  be 
at  hand,  the  young  deacon  rose,  and  with 
a  multitude  of  words  brought  an  accu 
sation  against  himself  which  he  ended 
with  an  humble  asking  of  forgiveness 
from  the  brethren  and  sisters.  The  gist 
of  the  self-accusing  was  the  great  anger 
indulged  by  himself  against  his  old  mare 
Puss,  for  some  of  her  behavior  that  very 
morning  while  on  their  way  to  the  meet 
ing.  When  he  had  gotten  far  on  in  the 
narration,  he  said  in  humble  partial  jus 
tification: 

"And  it  wern't  I  got  so  pow'ful  mad 
at  her  a-stumblin'  and  a-fallin'  down 
sprawlin',  a-comin'  down  Crowder's  Hill, 
because  it  were  rocky,  and  she  were  ten 
der-footed,  and  I  weren't  a  holdin'  the 
reins  tight,  it  bein'  I  were  studdin'  on 
my  juties  as  a  deakin  and  not  on  old 
Puss  a-fallin'.  Nor  I  never  blamed  her, 
as  she  were  obleeged  to  fall,  for  fallin' 
on  top  o'  one  o'  my  laigs;  because  I 
were  obleeged  to  know  that  nobody, 


flfcr,  jfortner's  dfcarital  Claims,        7 

nother  animal  ner  folks  is  expected,  when 
they  goin'  to  fall,  to  stop  and  think  and 
pick  out  how  they're  goin'  to  do  it,  and 
what  on,  and  what  not  on.  I'm  thankful 
in  my  heart  I  were  not  that  onreason'ble 
with  any  dumb  creatur.  But — and  thar 
the  shoe  pinch — what  made  me  so  bilin 
mad,  after  she  fell  on  my  laig,  she 
wouldn't  git  off,  a  notishstandin'  my  hol- 
lerin'  at  her  at  the  top  o'  all  my  woices, 
because  it  hurt  pow'ful  bad,  my  laig  did, 
and  I  jes'  had  to  holler  and  punch  her  in 
the  side,  and  jerk  her  with  the  bridle, 
and  kick  with  what  purchase  I  had  with 
my  other  laig,  and  cuff  her  on  the  head  tell 
I  mighty  nigh  sprained  my  hand.  And, 
tell  finil,  I  jes'  had  to  gouge  her  eyes 
mighty  nigh  out  before  she'd  move  one 
single  blessed  peg  to  let  me  pull  out  my 
laig,  which  I'm  thankful  it  didn't  git 
broke  and  squeushed  complete.  And  it 
were  right  thar,  brer  Mod'rator,  that 
come  in  the  whole  sin  and  wickedness  of 
the  whole  sitiation.  And  it  ain't  that  I 
actuil  said  the  words.  I'm  thankful  I 
had  grace  enough  left  to  keep  from  sayin' 


flfcr,  ffortner's  Marital  Claims, 

'em,  but  as  I  lay  thar  a-gougin'  o'  the 
mar,  I  thought  to  myself,  ''Damn  your 
eyes!'  and  it's  for  the  thoughts  o'  them 
words,  and  that  a  deakin  o'  this  church, 
I  ask  for  the  brothers'  and  sisters'  for 
giveness." 

They  gave  it  freely,  and  the  penitent 
showed  his  gratitude  by  continual  growth 
in  fitness  for  his  position. 

Of  all  the  members  Mrs.  Fortner  was 
least  hearty  in  felicitating.  Busied  with 
household  duties,  she,  riding  Little  Puss, 
a  colt  of  the  mare,  had  come  on  later. 
Now  Old  Puss  was  with  her  quite  a  fa 
vorite,  having  descended  from  a  dam 
come  from  her  father's  estate,  and  being 
destined  to  transmit  her  name  and  virtues 
through  many  generations  yet  to  come. 
When  late  that  evening  they  had  got 
ten  quite  out  of  town,  Mrs.  Fortner, 
after  looking  far  behind  to  see  if  any 
others  were  in  hearing,  said: 

"  Jaymiah  Fortner,  I  think  you  went 
ruther  t'other  side  of  what  you  was  called 
on  this  evenin'  by  you  a-gitting  up  and 
a-making  of  me  a  ruther  ashamed  of  my- 


flftr.  3fortner'6  Marital  Claims.        9 

self  by  your  long  languages  about  Old 
Puss  a-falling  on  top  o'  your  laig,  and 
you  a  mighty  nigh  went  to  the  length  of 
cussing  her  while  you  was  a-gouging  of 
her  eye,  which  it  now  look  red  and 
watery  like  it  was  fit  to  go  thes  out. 
What  seem  to  me  you  ought  to  told,  ef 
you  must  git  up  and  tell  something,  it 
were  that  no  longer  than  day  before  yis- 
terday  I  told  you  that  mar  was  tender- 
footed  and  she  oughtn't  to  be  rode  till 
she  were  shod.  And  my  opinion  is  you'd 
'a'  done  better  to've  done  as  I  told  you, 
than  to  have  to  git  up  after  the  other 
business  was  through  with  and  keep  the 
confence  from  breaking  up  in  some  sort 
of  time  for  people  that's  had  no  dinner 
excepting  of  a  cold  snack  to  get  out  in 
time  to  have  got  leastways  a  decent  sup 
per,  and  which  it  do  seem  to  me  a'most 
scan'lous  the  lenth  of  time  is  took  up 
at  them  Sat'day  meetings  with  things 
that  some  of  'em  have  got — seem  to  me 
— they've  no  business  there;  and  as  for 

your  cussing  o'  Old  Puss'  eye " 

But  at  that  moment  she  spoke  sharply 


10      /tor.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

to  her  nag,  who  loped  on  ahead,  and  feel 
ing  that  the  words  would  not  be  quite 
proper  to  be  spoken  aloud  even  by  one 
as  hungry  and  as  much  hurt  as  she  was, 
she  only  soliloquized: 

"  If  any  cussing  had  to  be  done  betwixt 
you  and  Old  Puss  it  seem  like  to  me  Old 
Puss,  if  she  had  a  mouth  for  cussing,  she 
were  the  one  to  do  it." 

Housewives,  some  as  good  as  the  sun 
ever  shone  upon,  must  occasionally  com 
plain  of  those  meetings  whose  sessions, 
seldom  needing  more  than  a  few  minutes 
for  the  dispatch  of  necessary  business, 
were  protracted  sometimes  hours  in  order 
to  let  people  like  Mr.  Fortnertake  off  the 
last  feather  of  what  burthens  were  on 
their  minds,  or  exhibit  their  powers  in 
counsel  and  debate  at  these,  their  only 
opportunities.  Mr.  Fortner  had  a  pleas 
ant  compassion  for  these  harmless  fret- 
tings  and  like  drawbacks  to  the  high 
felicity  of  being  his  wife,  but  sweeter 
far  on  this  evening  was  the  retrospect  of 
the  victory  which  he  had  gotten  over 
himself  and  men's  ooinions.  More  elate 


/tor.  ^former's  /llbarftal  Claims,      n 

could  hardly  be  the  thoughts  of  one  who 
both  ruleth  his  spirit  and  taketh  a  city. 

Yet,  plain  as  this  talk  was,  nothing 
was  behind  or  beneath  it  to  mar  a  con 
jugal  life  which  had  been  and  was  to  con 
tinue  to  be  happy,  with  one  brief  inter 
val,  for  very  many  years  to  come.  Mr. 
Fortner  was  of  all  men  in  that  community 
the  most  pronounced  adherent  of  the  sen 
timent  of  St.  Paul  the  apostle  concerning 
marital  authority.  His  wife,  submitting 
like  other  good  women,  never  raised  an 
issue  except  when  she  honestly  believed 
such  authority  to  be  strained  beyond 
what  was  fair.  For  near  half  a  century 
they  had  never  had  an  out-and-out 
quarrel.  Mrs.  Fortner's  views  of  matters 
and  things  in  general,  as  she  frequently 
said  with  mild  firmness,  were  her  own, 
and  attempt  was  never  made  to  hinder 
her  in  giving  expression  to  them.  Her 
very  distinct  individuality  she  could  not 
have  suppressed  if  she  had  tried  ever  so 
hard,  and  if  her  husband  had  been  put  up 
on  his  oath — perhaps  not  otherwise — he 
must  have  admitted  that  on  many  even  im- 
2 


12      flfcr.  3fortner'6  flfcarftal  Claims, 

portant  occasions  when  their  judgments 
had  conflicted,  results  had  showed  hers  to 
be  nearer  the  truth.  Indeed,  their  con 
tests  for  domestic  supremacy  had  been 
fewer  and  smaller,  because  often  he  had 
thought  that  he  was  leading  when  in  fact 
he  was  being  led  by  both  an  understand 
ing  and  a  discretion  superior  to  his  own. 
Yet  now  that  he  had  grown  old  his  virtues 
seemed  to  have  become  more  hard  and 
his  consciousness  of  general  superiority 
more  pronounced.  Occasionally,  When  in 
the  society  of  old  or  elderly  married 
men,  he  gave  more  pointed  expression  to 
thoughts  which  were  foremost  in  his  mind. 
"I'm  thankful  to  the  good  Lord  for 
two  things;  and  the  first  one  of  'em  is 
him  a-makin'  me  a  man  'stead  of  a 
woman,  and  second,  him  a-lettin'  me 
be  a  Babtis'  'stead  of  a  Meth'dis'.  Be 
cause,  if  I  had  a  accident  been  a  woman, 
a  person  with  the  head  I've  got,  they 
would  been  danger  of  my  bein'  ruther 
obstinater  than  the  'Postle  Paul  allow 
women  to  be;  and  if  I'd  been  a  Meth' 
dis',  it  make  me  a'most  trimble  to  think 


Mr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims.      13 

what  a  scatterin'  I'd  a  made  o'  wrong 
doctring.  Yit,  they  weren't  nigh  the 
danger  o'  that  as  of  the  t'other.  Because 
I  had  the  Scriptur'  before  me  to  go  by 
soon  as  I  learnt  to  read,  which  I  done 
when  I  were  nine  year  old,  and  I  knewed 
even  then  I  were  right,  same  as  I  do 
now.  But  I  suppose  it  ain't  give  to 
everybody  to  always  see  their  way  per 
fect  cler.  Now  my  wife,  Mirny  Pugely 
as  was,  as  you  all  know,  were,Meth'dis' 
when  she  were  a  girl ;  but  when  I  made 
a  dead  set  at  her  with  my  argyments  o' 
one  kind  and  another,  she  couldn't  no 
more  stand  up  before  'em  than  so  much 
stubble  could  stand  up  before  a  light'd 
knot  afire.  She  have  a  right  good, 
strong,  hearty  will  of  her  own,  she  do  at 
times;  but  in  genii,  and  special  when  I 
cote  the  Tostle  Paul  on  her,  she  know 
how  to  other  moderate  down  or  else  drop 
the  subject;  and  I'll  say  it,  that  in  the 
long  run  she  have  made  about  as  good, 
faithful,  reason'ble  companion  as  the 
common  run  of  women  anywheres,  I  don't 
keer  where  you  go  to  look  for  'em." 


14      flfcr.  3fortner'0  Marital  Claims. 

Yet  not  very  far  away  was  the  time 
when  he  was  to  deem  it  needful  for  entire 
security  in  his  domestic  rule  to  invoke 
outside  help.  In  the  State  of  Georgia  at 
that  period  (fifty  years  ago),  the  common 
law  of  England  in  the  matter  of  marital 
rights  obtained,  with  the  addition  of  stat 
utory  enactments  giving  to  the  husband 
absolute  ownership  of  all  the  wife's  prop 
erty  real  and  personal.  Married  women, 
as  a  rule,  particularly  in  rural  commu 
nities,  acquiesced  without  complaint  in 
conditions  which  their  own  fathers  and 
other  nearest  male  friends  almost  with 
out  exception  approved,  and  there  was  as 
much  domestic  happiness  as  elsewhere. 
Marriage  settlements  were  very  rare, 
separations  more  so,  and  applications  for 
divorce  were  never  heard  of.  Yet  in  the 
old  age  of  Mrs.  Fortner,  when  she  was 
required  to  make  a  sacrifice  which  seemed 
unconscionably  exacting,  she  felt  that  she 
had  the  right  to  offer  resistance. 


/tor.  tfortner's  /iBarftal  Claims.      15 


CHAPTER    II. 

nearest  neighbors  of  the  Fort- 
1  ners,  as  you  went  farther  up  the 
road,  were  the  Hollys,  whose  family 
consisted  of  widow,  her  son  Jack,  and 
daughter  Susan.  Their  dwelling  was  a 
story  and  a  half  house,  on  the  roadside, 
with  no  grove  except  four  or  five  white 
oaks,  backed  by  a  plantation  not  as  large 
as  the  Fortners',  but  with  ground  fully 
as  good  and  more  fresh,  the  tending  of 
which  by  Jack  with  their  moderate  negro 
force  produced  all  that  the  family  needed, 
and  more  too.  What  the  thoughts  of 
Jack,  now  twenty-five,  were,  and  what  for 
some  time  past  they  had  been  about  the 
Fortner  girls,  nobody  knew  as  well  as  he 
himself  and  Martha.  His  mother  (and 
it  seemed  to  him  rather  unfortunate)  was 
a  Methodist,  and  one  about  as  strong  as 
they  generally  make — the  stronger  per 
haps  because  that  denomination  in  the 
community  was  in  a  woeful  minority. 


16      dfcr,  jfortner's  flRarttal  Claims* 

Jack,  a  loyal,  brave  fellow  as  you  could 
find  anywhere,  sometimes  said: 

"As  for  me,  I  don't  take  much  stock 
in  church  business  of  any  sort — not,  I 
know,  as  much  as  everybody  ought;  but 
as  ma  belongs  to  that  party,  and  'spe 
cially  as  it's  so  weak  around  and  about 
here,  whatever's  in  me  that  can  be  count 
ed  at  all  on  that  line,  I'm  with  ma;  of 
course  without  I  get  converted  and  then 
get  convinced  that  Methodist  ain't  as 
ginuine  a  article  as  any  of  'em  a-going. 
I'm  not  a  going  to  promise  nobody,  like 
Josh  Farmer  had  to  promise  Mr.  Fortner 
before  he  could  get  his  daughter  and 
afterward  make  the  half-and-half  Bab- 
tist  he  does.  No,  not  me!" 

The  more  courageous  he  was,  the  more 
surely  he  engaged  Martha's  affections; 
yet  she  had  not  quite  answered  "yes"  to 
the  most  interesting  question  which  he 
ever  had  put  to  her,  although  she  had 
intimated  several  times  that,  but  for  her 
prevision  of  her  father's  opposition,  she 
might  have  done  so  some  time  ago.  She 
thought  it  was  due  to  Jack  to  say  in  ad- 


dlbr.  ffortner's  dfcarftal  Claims.      17 

dition  that  she  was  and  expected  to  con 
tinue  to  be  hoping  for  the  best;  but  if  in 
time,  in  good  time — that  is,  in  reasonable 
time — she  should  be  convinced  that  hop 
ing  for  the  best  should  have  no  other 
result  than  increasing  prejudices  and 
protracting  disappointments,  there  was 
no  telling  what  she  would  do.  And  so 
Jack  waited,  not  having  much  confidence 
that  this  hoping  for  the  best  was  going 
to  do  any  very  great  things,  but  looking 
to  what  was  to  happen  when  it  should 
prove  to  be  a  dead  failure. 

"A  excellent  woman  Missis  Holly  is," 
Mr.  Fortner  often  said  to  his  wife ;  "  a  un 
common,  excellent  woman.  One  o'  the 
excellen'st  it  have  been  my  lot  to  ever 
knew,  that  her  equil,  exception  of  you, 
in  the  waitin'  on  and  the  settin'  up  with 
the  sick,  and  the  layin*  out  o'  the  dead, 
it  is  yit  for  me  to  git  a-quainted  with. 
It  do  seem  like  pity  she  won't  read  and 
study  to  her  satisfaction  the  writin's  o' 
the  'Postle  Paul,  where  he  tell  about  in 
Romans  about  princ'pal'ties,  and  powers, 
and  everything  else  that  tries  and  can't 


18      flfcr,  ffortner's  Marital  Claims, 

sip'rate;  and  then,  if  she'd  set  down  and 
read  keerful  about  them  a-babtizin'  in 
Enon,  because  they  were  much  water 
there,  it  do  seem  like  to  me  a  honest 
person  like  her  would  be  obleged  to  give 
in.  Now  there's  Susan,  sweet  as  a  pink 
and  juicy  as  a  peach;  and  there's  Jack, 
that  they  aint  a  industrouser  ner  a  judg- 
maticler  farmer  in  this  whole  settlement 
of  people;  but  they  both  of  'em  has  to 
be  hilt  back  in  jes  that  kind  o'  style, 
that,  to  my  opinion,  nother  of  'em  have 
read  the  Scriptur'  fur  theirself,  but  think 
they  must  go  with  their  ma  thick  and 
thin,  snolus-bolus,*  which  it  all  go  to 
show  what  prejudice  is  and  that  it'll  go 
from  gin'ration  to  gin'ration." 

"Laws!  Mr.  Fortner,"  she  sometimes 
answered  in  weary  indifference,  "  of  course 
it's  all  from  the  way  people  is  raised." 

"  Of  course,  my  dear,  which  it  make 
the  case  that  much  pitifuller.  Well,  my 
hopes  about  the  Hollys  is  that  they'll 
come  in  after  a  while,  like  the  'lev'nth 

*  If  Mr.  Fortner  had  been  a  Latin  scholar.,  instead  of  these 
words  he  would  have  said — "  nolens,  volens?' 


d&r,  ffortner's  Marital  Claims,      19 

hour  people  spoke  of  in  Scriptur',  but 
which  sech  people  always  can't  help  from 
knowin'  they're  paid  more  than  their 
work's  worth,  which  if  it  wer'n't  in  the 
very  word  o'  Scriptur',  I  couldn't  never 
see  the  jestice  of  sech  a  settlement  to 
them  that's  been  a-workin'  in  the  win'- 
yard  a'  constant." 

"Yes,  I  suppose.  Maybe,  it's  all  so. 
No  doubt  about  Jack  and  Susan  being 
nice  young  people,  certain." 

"  They  know  nothin'  about  their  Meth'- 
dis  doctring,  what  they  is  in  it,  and  keer 
nothin'  about  it,  and,  to  my  opinion, 
'twern't  for  that  wide-mouth  preacher 
Woody,  they  could  be  converted  easy  in 
no  time;  and  if  brer  Wheelright  wern't 
so  mealy-mouth,  they  ain't  no  tellin' 
what  couldn't  be  done  with  the  whole  of 
'em.  I  wish  in  my  soul  he  were  half  as 
strenious  as  Fortner  Glaze." 

"Umph!"  said  his  wife,  and  it  was  all 
she  did  say. 

Susan  Holly  was  indeed  a  fine  girl  with 
her  little  figure,  light  complexion,  blue 
eyes,  with  manner  and  everything  else  to 


20      fl&r.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

match.  She  was  about  as  much  Method 
ist  as  the  Fortner  girls  were  Baptist;  and 
these,  especially  Mary,  had  almost  as  much 
fun  as  she  did  with  the  Rev.  Elias  Woody, 
who  was  circuit-rider  that  year,  and  who 
was  wont  to  stop  more  often  than  seemed 
worth  while,  considering  the  smallnessof 
the  flock  that  gathered  at  the  poor  little 
meeting-house  at  the  other  end  of  the 
village,  and  spend  one  night  and  maybe 
another  at  the  Hollys'.  He  was  about 
six-and-twenty,  quite  above  medium 
height,  strong,  bushy-haired,  ruddy,  ex 
uberant  in  health,  abounding  in  cheer, 
and  as  handsome  as  he  was  enter 
taining.  He  had  rather  more  cult 
ure  than  the  average  among  the  rural 
clergy,  and  his  full  share  of  the  faculty 
of  speaking  with  effect  in  public.  More 
cultured  and  more  serious  was  the  Rev. 
Isaac  Wheelright,  of  about  his  age,  and 
not  unlike  him  in  appearance,  who, 
on  the  demise  of  old  Mr.  Swinney, 
had  been  called,  over  the  vote  of  Mr. 
Fortner  and  a  few  others,  to  the  pastorate 
of  the  Baptist  church. 


jflfor,  ffortner's  /IBarftal  Claims.      21 

"  I  didn't  vote  for  you,  brer  Wheel- 
right,"  Mr.  Fortner  thought  he  ought  to 
say,  when  the  young  man  came  to  his 
charge,  "but  it  were  because  I  were 
afeared  you  was  too  young  for  the  busi 
ness.  Yit,  I  never  made  a  streenious 
opposition,  a-'memberin'  that  Timothy, 
young  as  he  were,  it  never  hendered  him 
from  a-bein'  a  power,  and  even  a  favorite 
with  the  Tostle  Paul." 

"  I  thank  you,  brother  Fortner,  for 
your  sincere  words,"  he  answered;  "I 
mean  with  the  help  of  your  prayers  and 
of  the  rest  to  do  the  best  I  can." 

Yet  the  old  gentleman  rather  resented 
the  action  of  the  majority,  and  he  was 
somewhat  proud  when  some  of  his  pre 
dictions  seemed,  at  Wheelright's  very 
first  sermon,  to  promise  fulfilment.  The 
discourse  met  with  little  favor  from  him, 
but  it  was  well  received  by  the  congrega 
tion,  including  the  few  Methodists  who 
were  present.  Maintaining  firmest  adhe 
rence  to  the  tenets  of  his  own  faith,  yet  he 
expressed  entire  respect  and  Christian 
brotherly  love  for  those  who  conscien- 


22      dfcr.  3fortner'6  Marital  Claims. 

tiously  held  to  a  different.  After  the  ser 
vice  was  over,  Mrs.  Holly  said  to  Mrs. 
Fortner: 

"  I  want  to  get  acquainted  with  that 
young  man.  I  don't  know  when  I've 
listened  to  better  Gospel  preaching  that 
went  straight  into  my  very  feelings." 

"That  you  shall." 

When  the  preacher,  shaking  hands  all 
around  as  he  came,  had  gotten  where 
they  were  standing  under  an  oak,  all  the 
Hollys  were  introduced  to  him. 

"They're  Meth'dis',  brer  Wheelright; 
but  they're  our  neighbors,  and  better 
friends  and  honester  people  nobody  ever 
ought  to  want  to  live  by.  The  being 
of  Meth'dis,  hain't  hendered  their  being 
both  that  nor  them." 

"  They're  the  main  things  at  last,  sister 
Fortner.  I  am  glad  to  make  your  ac 
quaintance,  sister  Holly,  and  your  chil 
dren's." 

Then  he  passed  on  to  others. 

"  I  thes  knewed  from  that  sermon  he 
were  a  good  man,"  said  Mrs.  Holly  when 
they  were  on  the  way  home.  "  Old  Mr. 


flfor.  tfortner's  jflfcarftal  Claims.      23 


Swinney,  poor  old  man,  he's  dead  and 
gone,  but  he  never  could  preach  such  a 
sermon  as  that  to  save  his  life,  and  he 
never  said  'sister'  to  me  one  single  time 
in  the  thirty  year  I  knewed  him." 

"You  think  he's  as  handsome  as  Mr. 
Woody,  brother?"  asked  Susan;  "I  de 
clare  he's  certainly  like  him." 

"There  it  is,"  said  the  mother;  "I 
bound  for  girls  looking  out  for  hand 
some,  as  they  call  it  these  days." 

"  I  mean  handsome  for  a — for  a  preach 
er,  of  course,  ma." 

"Oh,  yes — of  course,  of  course!  But 
you  know  you  meant  no  such  thing. 
Now  as  for  me,  I  weren't  thinking  about 
any  handsome.  What  my  mind  was  on 
as  he  stood  up  there,  and  every  bit  as 
good-looking  as  brother  Woody,  was  the 
good  solemn  word  she  said,  special  about 
them  that  ain't  all  of  his  way  of  thinking, 
that  some  of  their  preachers  don't  do — like 
poor  old  Mr.  Swinney,  which  he's  dead  and 
gone;  but  it  looks  like  he  ihes  couldn't  open 
his  mouth  in  the  pulpit  without  dragging 
we  poor  Methodists  over  the  coals." 


24      /for.  ffortner'0  /Iftarital  Claims. 

"  Like  our  preachers  do  with  the  Bab- 
tists — eh,  Susie?"  said  Jack. 

"  Our  preachers,"  insisted  the  mother, 
"  never  do  such  a  thing  except  where  they 
deserve  it  for  their  close  communion,  and 
their  predestinism,  and  such  things  as  the 
Scriptur'  is  perfect  plain  aginst.  Yes, 
Susan,  I  think  he's  every  bit  and  grain 
good-looking  as  brer  Woody;  for  his  hair 
is  curlier,  and  his  eyes  another  sort 
milder,  and  a  beautifuller  hand  and 
mouth  I  wouldn't  wish  to  see.  Yes — 
well,  you  two  may  laugh;  but  my  eyes 
can  see  well  as  anybody's;  and  what's 
more,  my  ears  can  hear,  which  yours 
don't  seem  to  did,  Susan!" 

And  so  they  went  on  all  the  way  home. 

The  Fortner  Glaze  aforementioned  was 
a  fifth  or  sixth  cousin,  living  beyond  the 
Oconee  River,  who  had  been  coming  over 
occasionally  to  see  his  kin,  and  who  at 
his  last  visit  had  intimated  to  Martha 
that,  if  she  felt  like  it,  she  could  get  him 
for  a  husband.  Martha  answered  nothing, 
and  he  decided  that  the  way  was  clear, 
He  was  a  stout,  darkish,  confident,  im- 


dfcr,  ^former's  Marital  Claim0.      25 

mensely  voluble  young  man,  particularly 
when  talking  about  John  the  Baptist  and 
the  Jordan  River.  He  was  not  a  member 
of  the  church,  because,  as  he  informed 
them  all,  he  was  waiting  to  settle  him 
self,  as  all  at  home  were  anxious  for  him 
to  do.  His  fiery  discoursings  upon  Bap 
tist  doctrines,  from  the  largest  to  the 
smallest,  commended  him  to  Mr.  Fortner, 
who,  being  told  that  his  father  was  of 
respectable  means,  was  well  disposed 
toward  the  idea  of  having  him  for  a 
son-in-law.  Glaze,  upon  taking  leave 
the  last  time,  had  informed  him  of 
what  he  had  said  to  Martha,  and  the 
nod  which  he  received  was  satisfac 
tory.  The  rest  of  the  family  after  his 
long  visits  felt  relief  at  his  departure. 
Treating  him  with  all  of  the  respect  due 
to  a  guest  and  kinsman,  yet  they  grew 
tired  *of  his  ceaseless  talkings  and  his 
boundless  conceit. 

"I  do  think,"  said  the  mother,  when 
last  he  had  gone  away,  "  that  he's  the 
fullest  of  himself  and  John  the  Babtis'  as 
a  water  milion  is  of  meat,  and  when  him 


26      jlfcr,  jjFortnet's  /Ifcarital  Claims, 


and  your  pa  git  on  the  'Postle  Paul,  it 
actuil  make  me  want  to  get  up  and  go  off 
some  where  and — and — well,  at  such  a 
time  a  body  can't  tell  what  they  do  want 
except  to  git  away  from  sech  everlastin' 
ding-dongin'." 

"I'm  sorry  he's  any  kin  to  us,  myself," 
said  Mary.  "If  he'd  been  the  gentleman 
he  lays  such  great  claim  to,  he'd  have 
not  joined  in  so  quick  with  pa's  com 
plaining  of  Mr.  Wheelright;  and  as  for 
what  he  said  about  Mr.  Woody,  that  was 
scandalous." 

"Of  course  it  was,"  said  Martha;  "I 
don't  believe  a  word  of  it." 

"Well,  my  daughters,"  said  Mrs.  Fort- 
ner,  "  such  people  gets  to  the  end  of  their 
row  in  time.  Come,  go  to  your  sewing. 
Your  cousin  Glaze  have  put  back  work. 
By-dy,  my  cousin  Glaze,"  she  said 
slowly,  with  mock  affectionateness,  look 
ing  toward  the  gate  as  the  parting  guest 
was  shaking  Mr.  Fortner's  hand. 

Then  they  laughingly  dispersed  to  get 
to  their  work. 


,  tfortner's  jflbarital  Claims.      27 


CHAPTER  in. 

JUST  as  Mr.  Fortner  had  foretold,  a 
friendship,  soon  amounting  to  in 
timacy,  grew  up  between  the  two  young 
preachers,  upon  which  the  aged  deacon 
looked  with  feeling  not  very  far  on  this 
side  of  disgust.  If  Wheelright  had  be 
gun  his  pastorate  with  a  vigorous  attack 
upon  the  Methodists,  he  might  have 
been  a  reasonably  acceptable  son-in- 
law,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he 
had  no  property  of  any  sort  besides  his 
profession.  For  in  that  relation,  Mr. 
Fortner  might  hope  to  control  him  as  he 
had  controlled  the  late  Mr.  Swinney.  Not 
a  single  conversion  from  Methodism  had 
been  made  by  that  zealous  partisan;  yet 
it  was  a  satisfaction  to  recall  his  passion 
ate  admonitions  and  the  scorching  chas 
tisements  inflicted  upon  the  reprobates 
who  had  refused  to  give  heed.  But  the 
idea  that  a  stripling  of  a  pastor,  pretend 
ing  to  have  ahead  of  his  own,  should  be 
come  a  member  of  his  family,  and  then, 


28      /iBr.  ffortner's  dfcarftal  Claims. 

while  uncontrollable  in  the  pulpit,  have 
to  depend  upon  him  to  make  up  what 
would  be  necessary  for  family  support 
over  and  above  the  poor  stipend  paid  by 
the  congregation,  was  not  pleasant  to 
think  about.  Then  his  mind,  captivated 
by  the  partisanism  of  Glaze  and  what  he 
had  said  about  his  father's  properties, 
had  already  consented  to  a  match  be 
tween  him  and  Martha.  But  one  day, 
happening  to  overhear  his  wife  and 
daughters  talking  contemptuously  about 
this  cousin,  he  became  angry,  the  more 
so  because  he  kept  the  feeling  to  himself. 
His  love  for  his  wife  was  the  strongest 
feeling  in  his  being.  Yet  he  had  never 
quite  found  this  out,  because  of  his  fail 
ure  to  subdue  her  will  entirely  beneath 
his  own.  *Grown  old,  his  judgment  be 
come  impaired,  like  many  others  in  such 
condition,  he  deemed  it  important  to 
continue,  and  with  yet  more  asperity,  a 
struggle  which  although  it  had  never 
led  to  actual  quarrelling,  had  result 
ed  in  defeats  that  in  the  increasing 
decline  of  his  vigor  became  harder  to 


.flfcr.  ffortner'0  Marital  Claims      29 

endure.  And  so  it  was  that  being  not 
well  pleased  with  the  frequent  visits  of 
Wheelright  to  the  house,  he  fell  into  a 
habit,  after  some  chatting  upon  indiffer 
ent  themes,  of  leaving  him  with  the  girls 
and  going  off  by  himself  to  ponder  what 
was  best  to  be  done.  In  the  unconcealed 
disgust  of  his  family  for  Glaze,  he  im 
agined  a  defiance  of  his  authority  and 
disregard  of  his  feelings,  and,  for  the  first 
time  in  all  his  married  life,  he  conceived 
toward  them  a  sense  of  resentment.  It 
might  have  been  better  if  he  had  spoken 
it  out;  but  it  was  too  painful  for  that. 
Then,  if  it  should  fail  of  the  desired  re 
sults,  things  would  be  worse  than  now. 
Affectionate  as  before  in  words  and  de 
portment,  attentive  to  his  every  want, 
Mrs.  Fortner,  conscious  of  greater  need 
of  firmness  than  ever  before,  foresaw  a 
crisis  and  took  all  pains  to  be  prepared 
for  it.  She  said  to  her  daughters: 

"You  girls  be  particular  to  never  dis 
pute  with  your  pa,  not  for  one  single 
word,  no  matter  what  he  say,  even  if  he 
call  a  day  a  Chuesday  when  you  know  it's 


30      /tor.  jfortnet's  jflfcarital  Claims, 

a  Wensday.  Jest  say  'yes,  sir,'  and  cno, 
sir,'  to  everything  he  say  aginst  Mr. 
Woody  and  fer  that  Fortner  Glaze,  a 
including  of  them  insiniations  aginst 
brother  Wheelright.  It's  a-going  to  take 
the  levellest  best  of  me  and  me  only  to 
paddle  this  canoe,  and  it'll  only  bother 
for  you  to  put  in.  Remember  what  I  tell 
you,  to  let  it  be  jest  'yes,  sir,'  and  'no, 
sir,'  with  your  pa." 

Several  weeks  passed  before  the  next 
visit  of  Glaze.  In  this  time  the  girls 
and  the  young  men  met  quite  frequently, 
and  there  was  a  good  understanding  all 
around.  In  a  community  simple  and  up 
right  like  that,  any  scandal  of  the  sort 
which  Mary  had  referred  to  lately  must 
soon  become  generally  known.  Wheel- 
right  openly  expressed  his  disbelief  in  its 
truth,  and  Jack  as  openly  denounced  it 
as  a  slander.  The  tale  was  that  during 
the  previous  year,  while  Woody  was  on 
his  first  riding  in  Putnam  County,  of 
which  both  he  and  Glaze  were  natives,  in 
one  of  his  tirades  against  the  Baptists, 
he  had  said  that  in  the  sacrament  of  bap- 


/tor.  ffortner's  /ifcarital  Claims.      31 

tism,  over  which  that  sect  made  so  great 
ado,  sand  would  be  as  efficacious  as 
water,  and  that  when  the  words  were 
charged  upon  him  he  had  denied  them 
with  an  oath.  On  a  late  visit  across  the 
Oconee,  Woody  heard  of  the  report, 
which  had  been  traced  to  Glaze,  and  he 
made  up  his  mind  straightway  what  he 
would  do.  Mr.  Fortner  was  delighted 
with  the  horror  he  felt  at  the  awful  news, 
but  was  intensely  irritated  that  neither 
Wheelright  nor  anyone  of  his  own  family 
credited  it  after  he  had  declared  his  en 
tire  belief  in  its  truth.  Yet,  as  before, 
he  kept  his  resentment  within  his  own 
breast  where  it  was  nursed  with  assi 
duity. 

It  so  happened  that  on  the  afternoon  of 
Glaze's  arrival,  Woody,  Jack,  and  Susan 
came  to  the  Fortners.  At  the  introduc 
tion  to  Glaze,  Woody  said: 

"  I  know  Mr.  Glaze  very  well  by  sight. 
Indeed,  I  was  introduced  to  him  last  year 
at  the  Putnam  camp-meeting." 

"Possibly  so,  sir,"  said  Glaze.  "I've 
been  made  acquainted  with  a  good  many 


32      flfcr.  3fortnerf0  /Marital  Claims. 

people.  Some  of  'em  may've  slipped  my 
ric' lection.  I  remember  I  did  go  to  that 
camp-meeting  one  day  just  for  curiosity 
to  see  how  they  carried  on."  Then, 
glancing  toward  Mr.  Fortner,  he  contin 
ued:  "I'm  told  you're  very  strong  on 
fallin'  from  grace." 

"  Oh,  yes,  oh,  yes,"  was  the  cheerful 
answer,  "  especially  when  a  man  has 
never  had  it." 

Then  he  turned  and  began  laughing 
and  talking  with  the  girls. 

"Now  as  for  things  like  them,"  said 
Mrs.  Fortner  calmly,  her  teeth  nearly 
closed,  "my  opinion  is  the  pulpit's  the 
place  for  them,  if  they  is  any." 

Mr.  Fortner  and  his  cousin  rose  im 
mediately  to  retire.  As  the  latter  was 
leaving,  Woody  said  to  him: 

"You'll  be  here  for  some  time,  won't 
you,  Mr.  Glaze?" 

"  Can't  say,  sir.  May  or  may  not;  de 
pend  on  circumstances;"  then  he  went 
on  out. 

The  man's  coming,  this  incident,  and 
the  sight  of  its  effect  upon  those  present 


dfcr,  ffortner's  Marital  Claims,      33 

served  to  exasperate  Mr.  Fortner  yet 
more.  In  imagination  he  saw  Wheelright 
become  Methodist,  and,  with  Jack  Holly 
weaning  his  remaining  daughters  from 
filial  affections  and  obligations,  and, 
what  was  yet  more  appalling,  from  the 
religious  faith  which  was  the  only  means 
of  escape  from  death  eternal.  He  went 
to  bed  with  the  resolution  to  go  next 
morning  into  the  village  and  take  coun 
sel  with  some  of  the  older  brethren  whom 
he  might  meet  there. 

That  same  night,  after  Mrs.  Holly  and 
Susan  had  retired,  Woody  said  to  Jack : 

''Perhaps  it  wasn't  exactly  right  to 
feel  so;  but  I  was  delighted  when  that 
fellow  attacked  me  this  evening,  because 
it  showed  both  his  bad  manners  and  his 
aggressive  spirit.  But  I  tell  you  now, 
Jack  Holly,  that  my  fingers  itched  to 
get  hold  of  his  throat.  I  rather  think  I 
did  give  the  damned  lie  to  his  slander. 
At  all  events  I  thought  it,  as  I've  heard 
tell  about  a  confession  of  Mr.  Fortner  on 
a  certain  trying  occasion.  I'm  much 
obliged  to  you  for  having  confidence 


34      /ifcr,  jfortner'6  Marital  Claims, 

enough  in  me  to  denounce  it.  I  know 
the  scoundrel  well.  He  pretends  to  be  a 
manager  of  his  father's  business,  but  the 
old  man  attends  to  that  himself,  and  the 
whole  family  would  be  glad  to  get  rid  of 
him.  As  for  the  number  of  Baptist  girls 
that  have  kicked  him,  nobody  but  him 
self  could  tell.  He  has  feathered  Mr. 
Fortner's  eyes  with  his  everlasting  talk 
about  John  the  Baptist  and  the  river 
Jordan;  but  it  is  plain  to  me  that  Mrs. 
Fortner  sees  a  good  way  into  him.  So 
does  Wheelright,  grand  fellow  that  he  is; 
but  they  don't  see  quite  through  him. 
To  make  them  do  that  is  going  to  be  my 
business  as  soon  as  I  can  get  a  lick  at  him 
out  of  women's  company.  I  intended  to 
go  over  to  Putnam  to-morrow  in  order  to 
see  the  bishop  on  a  very  special  matter; 
but  I  shall  not  go  until  I  can  have  an 
other  int2rview,  and  in  different  sur 
roundings,  with  that  learned  and  other 
wise  interesting  young  gentleman.  On 
the  'whole,  I  feel  first-rate.  Glorious 
girls,  aren't  they?  Let's  go  to  bed. 
I'm  off." 


/Ifcr,  jfortner's  /Ifcarital  Claims,      35 

"  I  say,  Jack,"  he  sent  back   as  he  was 
moving  off,  "  curious  talk  for  a  preacher, 


isn't  it? 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FROM  an  intimation  of  Mr.  Fortner 
to  Glaze  on  his  arrival  that  he  sus 
pected  an  attachment  between  Wheelright 
and  Martha,  Glaze  at  once  began  to  be 
stow  his  special  attentions  upon  Mary, 
who  would  have  suited  just  as  well  a  man 
in  his  circumstances,  At  the  supper- 
table  Mr.  Fortner  remained  grimly  silent 
while  he  talked  on  and  on  in  damning 
praise  of  Wheelright  and  bold  denuncia 
tion  of  Woody.  He  was  very  sorry,  he 
admitted,  to  hear  of  the  close  intimacy 
between  them  and  much  afraid  of  its  con 
sequences. 

"For  I  tell  you  all  here  at  this  table 
that  I  know  all  about  that  fellow,  Woody. 
He's  a  snake  in  the  grass.  You  saw  how 
he  tried  to  insult  me  this  evening,  which 
he'd  have  knew  better  than  do  if  it 


36      flfcr,  tfortner's  Marital  Claims. 

hadn't  been  in  company  of  ladies.  I 
wouldn't  have  spoke  to  him  if  Cousin 
Mirny  hadn't  interduced  him  to  me, 
which,  of  course  that  were  the  thing  to 
do  in  her  own  house." 

"My  patience,  Fortner!"  said  the  lady, 
"the  man  hadn't  the  slightest  idea  of 
insulting  nobody.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
he  were  only  jest  a-trying  to  show  that 
he  some  ruther  you  wouldn't  be  fetching 
up  about  Meth'dis'  doctrine  when  he  were 
perfect  surrounded  by  Babtis'es,  except 
ing  Jack  and  Susan,  who  he  know  keers 
not  one  baubee  about  Meth'dis'  or  Babtis' 
and  I've  no  doubts  is  tired  like  a  good 
many  other  people  by  hearing  of  'em 
ding-donged  in  their  ear  when  they  ain't 
occasion  fer  it." 

"The  more  their  shame!"  said  Mr. 
Fortner.  Then  swallowing  hastily  the 
last  of  his  coffee,  he  rose  and  went  out. 
Next  morning  after  breakfast,  he  and 
Glaze  rode  into  town,  it  being  the  day 
for  the  weekly  mail.  When  they  had 
gone,  Mary  said: 

"  I  wish  I  could  never  lay  eyes  on  that 


/ifcr.  ffortner'e  /Iftarftal  Claims.      37 

man  any  more.  It's  a  perfect  shame  to 
have  to  beany  kin  to  him." 

"  You  better  be  thankful,  child, ".said 
the  mother,  laughing,  "that  it  isn't 
any  closeter.  I  noticed  him  a-eyeing 
you  last  night  like  he  used  to  eye 
Marthy. " 

"Ma,  do  hush!  Well,  he  may  eye  on; 
but  let  him  open  his  mouth  to  me  one 
time  as  he  did  to  sister,  and  I'll  give 
him  something  that " 

"Come,  now;  come,  now,  Mary.  If  he 
tells  you  he  wants  you,  jes'  tell  him  'no' 
and  be  done  with  it.  I  don't  want  your 
pa  to  git  into  a  passion  with  anybody 
except  me.  He's  that  now,  and  it's  com 
ing  to  a  head  fast.  Last  night  he  kept 
me  awake  with  his  groaning  I  don't  know 
how  long,  and  once  he  got  up  and  lit 
the  candle,  and  got  the  Bible,  and  read 
awhile  in  it,  and  he  left  it  open  where 
he  been  a-reading,  and  I  knewed  he  left 
it  for  me  to  see  it  this  morning,  and  it 
was  in  Corinthans,  where  the  'Postle 
Paul  talk  about  women,  and  what  they 
shall  do,  and  what  they  shan't.  I  never 


38      /tor,  jfortner'0  Marital  Claims. 

let  on  nare  a  single  word;  but  I  tell  you 
it's  a-coming  to  a  head." 

"Mr.  Woody  knows  how  he's  been 
talking  about  him,  so  Jack  says,"  said 
Martha. 

"Of  course  he  does,"  said  Mary,  "and 
I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  Fortner  Glaze 
heard  from  him,  if  he  thought  there  was 
any  use  in  bothering  with  such  a  creat 
ure." 

"  I  wouldn't  care  much  if  he  did,"  said 
the  mother;  "for  that  might  bring  your 
pa  to  see  how  he's  fooled  in  him.  Still 
sech  as  that  is  never  women's  business, 
and  you  girls  be  very  partic'lar  how  you 
talk,  special  with  your  pa,  who  in  all  the 
time  I  have  been  living  with  him,  I  have 
never  knew  him  to  be  that  wrapped  up 
in  anybody  like  he  is  with  that  Fortner 
Glaze,  that  I'm  thankful  he's  none  of  my 
blood.  Your  pa  have  got  old,  and  he's 
like  other  old  people  that  think  the  less 
judgment  they've  got,  the  more  they've 
got.  But  you  two  leave  everything  to 
me,  and  say  nothing  to  your  pa  but  'yes, 
sir,'  and  'no,  sir,'  and  the  sooner  this 


/Ifcr.  ffortner's  /Ifcarital  Claims,       39 

thing  come  to  a  head,  the  better  it's  go 
ing  to  be.  Get  to  your  work  ;  I  must  go 
and  see  what  sort  of  a  dinner  I  can  get 
up  fur  your  'stinguished'  cousin.  I  see 
he  like  good  things  if  he's  fit  for  nothing 
else." 

Devoted  as  Mr.  Fortner  was  to  the 
Christian  Index  and  the  Southern  Recorder, 
the  former  the  organ  of  the  Baptists,  the 
latter  of  the  States'  Rights  party,  he 
first  went  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Leadbetter, 
a  brother  deacon,  in  order  to  let  out 
some  of  his  grief  and  to  counsel  with  him 
about  his  domestic  troubles.  Mr.  Lead- 
better,  a  good  partisan  both  in  religious 
faith  and  in  politics,  was  reasonably  con 
tent  to  wait  and  listen  and  sympathize, 
and  pour  in  oil  where  he  saw  an  oppor 
tunity.  These  were  his  last  words  at 
the  interview  which  was  suddenly  inter 
rupted: 

"  Brer  Fortner,  it  seems  to  me  that  if 
it  was  me,  I  should  try  to  be  keerful  how 
I  act,  and  try  not  be  vi'lent.  The 
Tostle  Paul,  they  ain't  no  doubts,  like 
you  say,  he  have  a-pinted  plain  to  women 


40       flfcr.  ffortner's  /Ifcantal  Claims. 

the  end  o'  their  rope;  but  women  some 
how,  ahem!  they  have  got  to  be  of  not  o' 
the  same  kind  as  in  them  days  when  he 
writ.  They  has  more  eddication  and 
they've  got  another  sort  of  backbone,  and 
my  expeunce  is  it  won't  do  to  run  it  on 
'em  too  heavy,  which  sech  as  that  is  apt 
to  do  more  harm  than  good.  Now  you 
acknowledge  yourself,  and  everybody 
know,  that  sister  Fortner  is  a  uncommon 
good,  useful  female,  and  have  done  a 
power  of  good  in  the  congregation  in  a 
mild,  and,  I  may  say,  in  a  example  way. 
And  as  for  Mr.  Woody  a-comin'  to  the 
house,  why  they  isn't  no  family  in  all  this 
section  that  like  to  jest  shet  down  on 
people  a-visitin'  them  that  behave  their- 
selves  as  they  tell  me  he  do,  which  I 
must  go  as  fur  to  say  for  my  part,  that 
what  little  I  have  saw  of  him,  he  seem 
like  a  ruther  gent'many  young  man  in 
his  behavior,  not'ithstandin'  him  bein' 
a  Meth'dis'  preacher;  and  brer  Wheel- 
right  say — 

"Don't  tell  me  what  brer  Wheelright 
say,   brer   Leadbetter.      I  were  'goin'  to 


/for.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims.      41 

git  on  him  after  a  while.  Brer  Wheel- 
right ' 

At  this  moment  their  attention  was 
called  to  some  unusual  movements  at  the 
post-office  a  few  rods  distant. 

In  the  piazza  of  the  store  where  the 
office  was  kept  sat  near  a  dozen  men, 
including  Wheelright.  The  reading  of 
their  mail  was  interrupted  by  Glaze,  who 
was  enlarging  on  general  Baptist  themes, 
mainly  John  the  Baptist  and  the  river 
Jordan.  In  the  midst  of  his  gush,  Woody 
rode  up.  He  had  come  by  the  Fortners 
and  seemed  to  be  in  first-rate  health  and 
satisfactory  spirits.  Halting,  dismount 
ing,  and  fastening  his  horse  at  the  rack, 
he  ascended  the  steps  of  the  piazza.  The 
speaker  suspended  his  oration  and  looked 
as  if  he  had  become  suddenly  disgusted. 

"Good  morning,  brother  Woody,"  said 
Wheelright,  "I'm  glad  to  see  you.  You 
know  most  of  these  gentlemen,  I  sup 
pose.  This  is  brother  Hall;  this,  brother 
Askew;  Mr.  Parker;  Mr.  Bowden.  Of 
course  you  know  Mr.  Glaze?" 

"Oh,  yes,''  he  answered,  after  shaking 


42      jfl&r.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims* 

hands  with  the  others,  "  I  know  Mr.  Glaze 
well,  very  well."  Then,  without  looking 
at  him  or  extending  his  hand,  he  passed 
to  the  offered  chair,  seated  himself,  and, 
playing  with  the  riding-switch  in  his 
hand,  looked  cheerfully  around.  The 
sudden  embarrassment  of  Glaze,  who 
only  a  few  moments  before  had  spoken 
of  the  young  preacher  in  contemptuous 
phrase,  was  noticed  by  all  present.  It 
seemed  to  fret  him  that  they  laughed 
with  polite  good-humor  at  the  playful 
chatting  between  the  clergymen,  and  he 
retreated  to  a  corner  at  one  end  of  the 
piazza..  Finding  that  position  not  to  his 
liking,  in  the  midst  of  one  of  Woody's 
repartees,  he  moved  impatiently  toward 
the  steps,  looking  toward  Mr.  Leadbet- 
ter's  house  as  if  he  meant  to  join  him 
and  Mr.  Fortner.  Woody  rose  quick 
ly,  and,  putting  himself  in  his  way, 
said: 

"  Mr.  Glaze,  please  wait  for  a  few  mo 
ments,  won't  you,  until  I  can  mention  a 
little  matter,  about  which  I'd  like  to  ask 
you  a  question  or  two." 


/Ifcr.  ffortnet'0  /l&arital  Claims.      43 

Glaze  looked  fiercely  into  the  smiling 
face;  but  something  whispered  to  him 
that  he  might  as  well  pause,  and  he  did 
so,  the  while  bestowing  upon  Woody  a 
look  as  admonitory  as  he  could  impro 
vise.  Loosening  his  cravat  and  contem 
plating  with  satisfaction  the  switch  in  his 
hand,  Woody  said: 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  you  in  the  midst 
'of  your  friends,  sir.  In  their  hearing  I 
ask  you  to  say  whether  or  not  you  have 
been  repeating  in  this  community  what  I 
know  you  have  been  reporting  about  me 
in  Putnam  County — that  I  had  said  that, 
in  my  opinion,  sand  would  answer  the 
purpose  in  the  sacrament  of  baptism  as 
well  as  water." 

It  had  not  been  half  an  hour  since 
Glaze  had  repeated  the  charge  again, 
and  so  he  could  not  but  answer  promptly, 
although  with  evident  reluctance. 

"I  have,  sir,"  he  said  partly  defiant 
and  partly  not.  "  I  told  it  as  it  was  told 
to  me.  I  wish  to  have  nothing  further 
to  do  with  it,  sir." 

"  Perhaps  so.  It  is  natural,  consider- 
4 


44      dfcr.  ffortner's  flfcarital  Claims, 

ing  that  what  you  have  had  to  do  with  it 
already  is  more  than  enough.  But  as  we 
have  gotten  thus  far  with  it,  and  as  an 
opportunity  so  favorable  may  not  occur 
again  soon,  we  may  as  well  finish  it  up. 
Who  told  you  that  I  said  so  ?" 

Glaze,  before  replying,  looked  around 
among  the  men  as  if,  in  a  party  matter  of 
such  importance,  surely  he  could  count 
upon  their  support. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  can  ric'lect  who  it 
was  told  ms,  sir,  and,  if  I  did,  I  don't 
know  that  it's  my  business  to  tell  you. 
But  I'll  tell  you  this  for  your  satisfac 
tion:  that  I  heard  when  the  thing  got  to 
you,  you  said  it  were  a  damned  lie." 

Then  he  looked  around  again,  as  if  he 
felt  that  he  had  scored  a  point. 

"  Yes,  sir.  That  was  told  you,  I  sup 
pose;  and  it  had  some  truth  in  it.  As 
for  the  first,  which  is  a  lie  out  and  out, 
you  are  the  sole  author  of  it.  You  know 
you  lied,  when  you  said  in  the  hearing  of 
Mr.  Henry  Bass  at  last  Putnam  County 
Court,  that  I  had  used  that  language  at 
Rockville;  and  you  know  that  you  would 


dfcr.  afortner's  /Hbarftal  Claims,      45 

not  dare  to  face  Mr.  Bass  and  deny  your 
words. " 

"  You're  a  preacher,   Mr.  Woody." 

"And  if  I  wasn't,  what  would  you  do? 
To  facilitate  your  answer,  let  us  suppose 
that  I'm  a  preacher  no  longer.  Now,  sir." 

"Then,  Mr.  Woody,  I  — ahem!  I 
should  say  you — I  think  you  are  mis 
taken,  sir." 

Woody  laughed  a  loud,  exultant,  bitter, 
wicked  laugh. 

"When  I  denounce  you,  which  I  do  in 
the  presence  of  these  gentlemen,  as  a  liar, 
a  base,  cowardly,  shameless  liar,  you  are 
content  to  answer  that  you  think  I  am 
mistaken.  Yet  let  me  do  you  no  injus 
tice.  Your  statement  as  to  how  I  char 
acterized  your  slander  was  substantially 
true.  If  there  be  such  things  as  damned 
lies,  and  I  have  no  doubt  there  are,  that 
was  one;  and  your  baseness  is  only  the 
meaner  in  that  you  never  came  to  me  to 
demand  retraction  of  the  words,  and  that 
you  do  not  now.  Now,  Fortner  Glaze, 
while  on  my  way  here  this  morning  I  cut 
this  young  hickory  with  intent,  if  you  be- 


46      /tor,  ffortner's  dfoarftal  Glafm0. 

haved  with  any  degree  of  insolence,  to 
use  it  upon  you.  As  it  is,  I  will  put  up 
with  less  rigorous  chastisement." 

Seizing  his  arm  he  drew  him  facing  the 
street,  then  getting  behind,  thrust  him 
down  the  steps.  Then  he  said : 

"There  is  your  horse,  and  yonder  lies 
the  road  back  to  Putnam  County.  Move 
on!  I  am  on  my  way  there  myself,  and 
it  will  go  another  sort  worse  with  you  if 
you  let  me  overtake  you  this  side  of 
Park's  Bridge.  In  that  event  I  will 
wear  upon  your  back  this  hickory  till 
nothing  is  left  of  it  but  the  handle!  " 

Glaze  went  for  his  horse,  struck  out  in 
a  brisk  canter,  and  if  ever  he  came  again 
on  this  side  of  the  Oconee,  nobody  in 
that  community  ever  knew  it. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Woody,  turning, 
"  please  accept  whatever  apology  I  owe 
for  my  part  in  this  business.  I  couldn't 
well  see  what  else  to  do  with  it." 

"He  was  served  exactly  right,"  said 
Mr.  Parker. 

"I  won't  say  he  wern't,"  said  brother 
Hall. 


flbr.  jfortner's  dRarital  Claims.      46 

"  Nor  me,"  said  brother  Askew. 

"Walk  with  me  a  little  way,  won't 
you,  Mr.  Wheel  right  ?"  asked  Woody, 
taking  his  arm.  They  set  out  together, 
Woody  leading  his  horse. 


CHAPTER    V. 

FEW  words  were  spoken  by  either 
until  they  reached  the  end  of  the 
village.  There  they  turned  into  the 
Methodist  church-yard,  and  sat  down 
upon  the  trunk  of  one  of  the  trees  that 
had  fallen  and  not  been  cleared 
away. 

"The  sight  of  this  poor  old  place," 
said  Woody,  looking  at  the  building  and 
around  the  neglected  yard,  "makes  me 
sad,  especially  in  view  of  something  I 
am  going  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Wheelright — 
after  a  little  while.  I  am  glad  you  were 
present  at  my  interview  with  that  man  a 
little  while  ago,  painful  as  it  must  have 
been  to  you.  At  such  a  time  a  man 
naturally  wishes  for  at  least  one  whom 


48      dfcr.  ffortner's  flfcarttal  Claims. 

he  believes  kindly  disposed  to  him  to  be 
near." 

"You  may  rely  with  entire  confidence 
upon  my  feelings  toward  you,  brother 
Woody.  I  was,  indeed,  intensely  pained; 
yet  I  felt  earnest  sympathy  with  what  I 
knew  you  must  have  suffered  yourself." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you.  I  may  as 
well  say  to  you,  first  as  last,  that  I  am 
now  on  my  way  to  the  presiding  elder  of 
this  circuit  in  order  to  report  to  him  my 
intention  to  withdraw  from  the  sacred 
ministry." 

Seizing  his  arm,  Wheelright  said: 

"  Brother  Woody,  surely  not — surely 
not !  I  beg  you  not  to  act  precipitately. " 

"  Now,  I  know  you  are  my  friend.  But 
let  me  tell  you:  there  is  no  precipitation 
about  it.  I  have  been  revolving  the 
matter  for  many  months,  even  before  I 
was  assigned  to  this  circuit.  That  my 
bishop  knows,  and  I  have  been  acting 
upon  his  advice  to  await  the  time  which 
I  have  taken  for  just  consideration.  I 
would  have  gone  several  days  ago,  but 
that  I  knew  that  this  man  was  to  be  here, 


jtor,  ffortner's  Marital  Claims*      49 

and  I  felt  that  it  was  due  to  myself  and — 
all  around,  that  I  should  meet  him  here 
and  expose  his  character.  I  hope  you 
don't  consider  that  I  was  too  hard  on 
him." 

"I  don't  see,"  answered  the  other, 
smiling,  "  how  you  could  have  been  any 
harder,  Mr.  Woody;  still,  considering 
the  provocation,  I — well,  /should  earn 
estly  hope  and  pray  never  to  be  subjected 
to  such  a  temptation.  You  saw  what  my 
Baptist  people,  one  of  them  a  deacon, 
thought  of  it." 

"Yes,  indeed;  and  it  supported  me 
wonderfully.  The  truth  is,  Mr.  Wheel- 
right,  I  was  drawn  into  preaching — if 
the  mouthing  which  I  have  done  in  the 
pulpit  may  be  so  called — without  due  re 
flection.  While  in  the  midst  of  sore  grief 
for  the  death  of  my  father  about  two 
years  ago,  I  joined  the  Church,  and  felt 
that  I  had  a  calling  that  way.  My 
mother  and  sisters,  understanding  my 
temper,  opposed,  as  far  as  they  felt  that 
they  could  do  so  with  propriety,  the  move 
ment.  But  I  went  on  in  a  very  short 


so      d&r.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

while,  and  without  a  particle  of  prepara 
tion." 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  have  been  enter 
taining  any  doubts  regarding  the  form  of 
your  religious  faith?" 

"Not  so  much,"  he  answered  smiling, 
"as  about  any  calling  that  ever  came  to 
me  to  preach  it.  I  am  naturally  very  im 
pulsive  and  passionate — not  revengeful, 
I  hope  and  believe,  but  resentful  to  in 
justice;  entirely  too  much  so  for  a  minis 
ter  of  the  Gospel.  I  am  sure  those  good 
Baptist  brethren  think  so  after  that  ex 
hibition,  when  I  felt  more  like  strangling 
the  scoundrel  than  hurling  him  down  the 
steps." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  this,  brother 
Woody,  and  I  am  sorry  for  this  last  oc 
currence,  thinking  how  it  may  affect  what 
I  know  is  a  very  earnest  aspiration  with 
you." 

"  I  am  thankful  to  be  able  to  say  that 
consideration  of  that  matter  had  nothing 
to  do  with  this  change  of  vocation,  and 
that  if  it  had  any  effect  upon  my  conduct 
toward  Glaze,  it  was  only  to  precipitate 


/Ifcr.  ffortner's  /toantal  Claims.      61 

it.  I  was  conscious  of  some  eagerness  to 
show  Mr.  Fortneras  soon  as  possible,  and 
before  he  knew  of  my  intention  regard 
ing  his  daughter,  that  the  vindication  of 
my  reputation  was  entirely  outside  of  any 
care  I  had  for  her  affection  or  his  favor. 
Mrs.  Fortner  understands  me  well;  so 
does  Mary,  bless  her  heart!  I  am  all 
right  there,  my  friend;  and  however  much 
they  may  be  pained  by  this  affair  with 
Glaze,  it  will  not  alter  relations  which 
have  been  fixed  definitely  this  very  morn 
ing.  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  let  the 
fellow  off  so  mildly  but  for  his  kinship 
to  Mary.  I  told  them  that  I  meant  to 
charge  him  with  his  slander,  and  publicly, 
if  I  should  get  an  opportunity.  They  an 
swered  not  a  word;  but  I  am  sure  that 
they  believed  it  ought  to  be  done." 

"I  congratulate  you  cordially.  But, 
my  dear  friend,  I  am  sure  you  don't  un 
derstand  brother  Fortner.  This  affair 
will  drive  him  far,  far  beyond  the  point 
where  your  Methodism  has  separated  you 
already." 

"  It  may  be.      Still,  I  couldn't  consider 


52      dfcr,  ffortner's  /llbarital  Claims. 

that.  Well,  it  will  serve  to  hurry  up  the 
crisis  which  Mrs.  Fortner  says  he's  bent 
upon  making.  She  calls  it  coming  to  a 
head.  A  right  good  simile.  I've  no 
doubt  that  I  have  pricked  the  boil 
to-day." 

"  Do  the  Hollys  know  of  your  decision 
about  the  ministry?" 

"Not  quite;  that  is,  I've  never  told 
them  in  words.  But  they  suspect,  and 
will  not  be  at  all  surprised.  What  do 
you  suppose  sister  Holly  said  when  I  in 
formed  her  of  my  family's  opposition  to 
my  entering  it?  She  laughed  and  said 
she  wasn't  sure  but  what  they  were  right. 
No;  Methodist  as  she  is,  to  the  back 
bone,  she  wants  nothing  that  militates 
against  the  right  and  everybody's  full 
liberty.  That  you  have  first-rate  reason 
to  know." 

"  Thank  you." 

They  rose,  and,  after  shaking  hands 
with  much  cordiality,  Wheelright  re 
turned  into  the  village,  and  the  other 
mounted  and  cheerily  rode  away. 


.  ffortner's  Marital  Clafme.       53 


CHAPTER     VI. 

ON  Jeremiah  Former  now  came  the 
severest  trial  to  which  he  had  ever 
been  subjected.  Of  thorough  integrity, 
intending  to  be  just  with  everybody,  yet 
he  was  a  clansman  and  a  partisan  to  the 
last  degree.  It  cut  him  deeply  that  a  kins 
man,  whom  now  he  loathed,  had  been  ex 
posed  and  punished  ignominiously  among 
a  set  of  Baptists,  including  his  pastor,  by 
a  Methodist — even  a  Methodist  preacher. 
What  exasperated  him  yet  more  was  the 
necessary  thought  that  not  only  these 
persons,  but  his  own  wife  and  daughters 
would  approve  Woody' s  action,  and  thus 
gain  or  seek  to  gain,  at  a  time  when  it 
would  be  specially  pernicious,  ascend 
ency  over  himself,  their  rightful  head. 
Without  another  word  to  Mr.  Leadbetter 
when  the  affair  was  over,  he  got  on  his 
horse  and  rode  back  home.  Asheneared 
his  gate  he  saw  Jack  Holly  issuing  from 
it.  He  had  noticed  Jack's  riding  to  the 


54      dfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

post-office  at  the  moment  of  Glaze's  de 
parture,  getting  his  mail,  and  turning 
away.  On  entering  the  grove  he  heard 
merry  laughter,  which  was  suddenly  sup 
pressed.  Then  he  knew  that  Jack  had 
reported  the  news,  and  they  had  been  ex 
ulting  over  it.  Consumed  with  anger  he 
hastened  on,  and,  even  while  ascending 
the  steeps  of  the  piazza,  said: 

"You  all  think  it's  the  thing  to  do  to 
be  laughin'  at  the  disgrace  of  the  whole 
family!  " 

"  Marthy  and  you,  Mary,  special  you, 
Mary,  'member  what  I  told  you.  Go 
'long  in  and  'tend  to  setting  the  table  for 
dinner."  Then,  calmly  resolute,  Mrs. 
Fortner  said: 

"  Mr.  Fortner,  /  don't  feel  any  dis 
grace  have  been  put  on  this  family." 

"You  don't!" 

"No,  sir,  I  don't,  nare  a  'bit;  not  the 
littlest  part  of  nare  a'  bit." 

He  was  too  angry  to  wince,  and  so  he 
said: 

"  That  man  shall  never  darken  my  door 
agin,  and  if  he  ever  comes  inside  of  my 


flfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims.      55 

gate  ary  nother  time,  I'll  set  the  dogs  on 
him." 

"Who  you  talking  about,  Jaymiah 
Fortner?  Jack?  Jack  Holly?" 

"  No!  You  know  well  enough  I'm  not 
a-talkin'  about  Jack  Holly,  albeit's  my 
intention  to  tell  Jack  Holly  that  his 
room's  better  than  his  company.  But 
I'm  a-meanin'  of  that  Meth'dis'  preach 
er — that's  who  I'm  a  meanin'  of.  You 
know  who  I'm  a-meanin'  of,  and  you 
needn't  try  to  deny  it." 

It  was  the  hardest  thing  he  had  ever 
said  to  her.  She  paled  for  a  moment, 
but  recovering,  answered  with  a  mildness 
that  provoked  and  was  meant  to  provoke 
yet  further: 

"And  you  think  the  time  have  come 
when  it's  got  to  be  your  duty  to  hurt  the 
feelings  of  the  nighest  and  the  best 
neighbors  we've  got,  and  all  for  that 
Fortner  Glaze,  that,  if  my  children's 
father  ain't  ashamed  for  them  to  be  kin 
to  him,  their  mother  am.  And,  if  it's  so 
to  be,  /  ain't  in  it." 

"You    won't    darens't     go    agins    me, 


56      flfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claime. 

which   you  know  the   Tostle  Paul  give 
a  man  the  a'thority  over  his  fam'ly. " 

"The  Tostle  Paul!  The  y^-postle 
Paul!  I've  been  a-hearing  about  the 
'Postle  Paul  every  sence  I  wern't  big 
enough  to  know  no  more  than  my  own 
blessed  name.  My  own  father,  if  my 
mother  had  let  him,  would  a-mighty  nigh 
run  her  ravin'  distracted  a-freckwent 
a-going  on  about  how  the  'Postle  Paul 
think  so  little  of  women  that  they  mustn't 
daresn't  open  their  mouth  without  their 
husband  give  'em  leaf,  an'  sence  I  jined 
the  Babtis'  it  appear  like  if  anything, 
they're  yit  more  streenious.  But,  and, 
as,  for  you  a-flaring  so  all  up  about  Mr. 
Woody  a-knocking  of  Fortner  Glaze 
down  them  post-office  steps,  they  isn't 
nobody,  Babtis'  or  Meth'dis',  who  won't 
say  it  oughtn't  to  been  done  by  somebody, 
preacher  or  what  not.  And  as  for  you  a- 
threat'ning  to  set  the  dogs  on  him,  which 
is  new  languages  in  this  house  or  a're 
'nother  respectable  house  in  this  whole 
neighborhood  about  the  way  to  treat 
folks  that  comes  a-visiting  people — why, 


tffcr,  ffortner's  Marital  Claims.      57 

you  can  thes  do  it,  although  I  have  yit 
to  learn  that  the  'Postle  Paul  ever  or 
dered  anybody  to  do  sech  a  scan'lous 
thing.  And,  as  for  your  as  good  as 
ordering  Jack  Holly  to  keep  off  these 
preemerses,  it's  as  good  as  driving 
Marthy  off  of  'em,  which  the  dear  good 
child  is  promised  to  Jack,  if  the  poor 
things  will  ever  think  they  can  make  the 
connection." 

"What?  What  you  say,  Mirny  Fort- 
ner?  I  thought  brer  Wheelright 
were " 

"No,  sir;  brother  Wheelright  have 
been  nothing  of  the  kind.  Brother 
Wheelright  have  no  notion  of  Marthy, 
nor  Marthy  of  him,  and  there's  two  rea 
sons  for  it.  One  is,  they  both  knewed 
you'd  be  against  it  if  they  were,  and 
what's  more,  there  was  other  people  both 
of  'em  liked  better." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  brer  Wheelright 
is  after  Mary?" 

"  No,  I  don't.  Brother  Wheelright 
have  been  after  Susan  ever  since  here  he 
have  been,  and  he's  bound  to  overtake 


58      /ifcr,  ffortner's  Marital  Claims, 

her,  because  she's  nigh  about  run  down, 
and  have  give  her  consent  to  be  over 
took." 

His  feelings  against  his  pastor  took 
presently  another  form,  and  he  said : 

"Ah,  ha!  I  prophesied  they  wasn't 
much  in  him  when  he  come  here,  but  I 
didn't  dream  of  his  marryin'  of  a  Meth'- 
dis'.  Yit  I  ain't  surprised — that  is,  I 
ain't  surprised  complete.  But  I  thought 
that  man  Woody  were  after  Susie." 

"Well,  he  wern't.  That  man  Woody, 
as  you  call  him,  is  after  somebody  else, 
and  she  too  have  he  overtook  when  it 
come  for  you  to  say  the  word." 

"Do  you  mean  Mary?"  he  asked, 
aghast. 

"That's  who  I  mean.  Mary  Fortner, 
and  nobody  else." 

"  And  you  tell  me  she  and  that  man 
have  been  making  of  a  plot?" 

"  No,  I  don't.  They  have  just  felled 
in  love  with  one  another,  the  same  that 
young  people  does  and  has  been  a-doing 
ever  sence  Adam  and  Eve  felled  in  love 
with  one  another  in  the  g'yarden.  It's 


ffortner'0  Marital  Claims,      59 


been    no    more,    and    it's    been    no    less. 
Now  what  you  got  to  say?" 

Her  judgment  was  that  it  was  best  to 
drive  him  at  once  to  the  extremest 
point.  His  anger  was  made  the  more 
intense  by  the  sight  of  her  defiant  fear 
lessness,  and  the  recollection  that  it 
had  always  prevailed  in  the  few  seri 
ous  domestic  combats  which  they  had 
had.  It  was  painful  in  the  extreme 
to  feel  that,  as  in  the  church,  so  in  his 
family,  he  was  losing  the  control  which 
for  more  than  two-score  years  he  had 
been  having  almost  without  dispute.  It 
shamed  him  that  Wheelright  had  not  even 
cared  to  win  either  of  his  daughters,  and 
his  resentment  against  him,  therefore, 
was  kindled  to  a  degree  that  made 
him  sick  at  heart.  Hardly  more  painful 
was  the  thought  that  the  man  who  had 
disgraced  Glaze,  whom  now  he  could  not 
but  despise,  should  aspire  to  Mary's 
hand.  Feeling  that  all  these  things  had 
come  upon  him  unworthily  and  because 
of  the  suspected  weakness  of  his  old  age, 
he  looked  at  his  wife  in  silence  for 
5 


60      /for.  ffortner'e  Marital  Claims. 

several  moments,  as  if  the  love  of  fifty 
years  had  turned  to  hostility  and  hatred. 
Finally,  he  said: 

"I'm  a-goin'  to  sell  this  place  and 
move  clean  away  out  of  this  neighbor 
hood.  I'd  better  be  dead  and  have  my 
dead  body  trompled  on  than  have  to  be 
run  over  on  all  side  that-a-way." 

"  Nobody  wants  to  run  over  you,  Jay- 
miah  Fortner;  and  you  ought  to  know,  if 
they  did,  I'd  be  the  one  to  die  before  it 
should  be  done." 

"I'll  sell  this  place  and  move  away, 
clean  away." 

"If  you  do,"  she  answered,  in  a  low 
voice,  "I  won't  go  with  you.'" 

"What?" 

"  Not  one  step!" 

"We'll  see  about  that!  Ah,  ha!  We'll 
see  about  that!  If  I  can't  ex'cise  some 
a'thority  give  me  in  Scriptur,  I  shall 
fetch  up  this  whole  business  in  the 
church,  and  I'll  do  it  this  very  Sad'day 
comin'." 

"  It's  been  that  I  been  a-expecting 
you'd  do,  and  you're  welcome  to  do  it. 


/tor,  ffortner's  /Ifcarltal  Clafm0.      ci 

It's    jest  as  well   to  come  to  it    first   as 

last." 

"  Them  is  your  conclusions,  is  they?" 
"They    are.      And    now    I've    got    my 

business  to  'tend  to." 

And  she  went  off  upon  this  errand. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THIS  was  on  Tuesday.  During  the 
three  days  following  Mr.  Fortner 
spoke  seldom  to  any  of  his  family.  His 
anger  at  the  sense  of  disrespect  for  his 
authority  was  too  deep  for  words.  In 
spite  of  his  resistance,  some  respect  for 
Woody  arose  in  his  mind,  which  served, 
however,  to  make  the  purpose  which  he 
contemplated  only  more  resolute.  There 
was  no  change  in  the  deportment  of  his 
wife  and  daughters.  On  Saturday  morn 
ing,  he  said  to  the  former:  . 

"You  goin'  to  meetin',  ain't  you, 
Mirny?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I'm  going  to  meeting,  Mr. 
Fortner;  but  being  as  it's  I  feel  like  it's 
more  a-going  to  a  court-house  than  any- 


62      flfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

where  else,  and  I  want  to  get  my  senses 
together  what  of  'em  is  left ;  I  some  rather 
go  by  myself.  I  maybe  late;  but  I'll 
get  there  before  time  for  conference." 

"  Have  you  been  a-prayin'  reg'lar,  my 
dear?  "  he  asked  in  sincere  sympathy. 

"  I  ain't  so  pow'ful  much  at  praying, 
Mr.  Fortner — not  nigh  as  much  as  I  ought 
to  be;  and  I  ain't  one  that  love  to  talk 
about  what  little  poor  praying  I  do  do. 
Besides,  there's  things  on  my  mind  that 
it  seem  to  me  praying  isn't  the  only  thing 
that's  been  needed  in  my  case.  I'm 
nothing  but  a  woman;  that,  as  she  have 
no  rights,  she  isn't  expected  to  have  any 
feelings.  Sometimes  I  a'most  wish  I 
could  get  rid  of  them  I  can't  help  from 
having,  like  cows,  that  when  they  move 
'em  away  from  their  young,  they'll  low 
and  they'll  mow  for  a  day  or  two,  and 
then  they'll  quit  and  go  along  quiet  where 
people  leads  'em,  or  drives  'em.  You 
can  go  on.  You'll  ride  Puss,  I  suppose. 
I  can  take  John  if  he's  not  wanted  too 
bad  in  the  plow;  and  if  he  is,  I  can 
walk." 


flfcr.  ffortner's  /ifcarital  Claims.      63 

"You  know  you'd  ruther  ride  Puss, 
Mimy;  and  you  know  that  if  anybody 
have  to  walk,  it  ought  to  be  me,  and  I 
ruther  for  it  to  be  me." 

He  spoke  in  affectionate  tone;  for  he 
sincerely  pitied  the  humiliation  to  which 
stern  necessity  was  forcing  him  to  sub 
ject  her.  Taking  his  hat  and  cane,  he 
walked  into  the  village,  arriving  at  the 
meeting-house  more  than  an  hour  ahead 
of  time.  There  he  chatted  with  first  one 
then  another  of  the  brethren,  several  of 
whom,  from  their  manner,  seemed  to 
be  remonstrating  respectfully.  Without 
staying  to  listen  to  their  words  he  passed 
on  to  others.  The  men  looked  at  one 
another,  some  gravely,  and  the  rest  with 
meaning  smiles. 

"  Old  brer  Fortner  is  just  crazy,  or 
nigh  about  it,"  whispered  one. 

"  No, "  another  said,  "he's  mad  and  will 
have  a  fight,  and  he's  goin'  to  git  awful  bad 
whipped  out.  You  know  he  never  could 
listen  to  reason  when  his  dander  gets  up." 

As  Mrs.  Fortner  was  about  to  start, 
Mary  said : 


64      jfiBr.  JFortner's  Marital  Claims* 

"  Don't  get  too  excited  to-day,  ma." 

"Oh,  honey,  I  shall  try  to  keep  in 
some  sort  of  bounds.  I  shall  let  'em 
know  I  think  me  and  my  children  have  a 
few  rights,  and  if  they  say  we  haven't, 
then  I  shall  let  out  on  'em  with  some  of 
my  feelings,  which  they'll  find  I've  got 
them  well  as  they  have.  You  girls  see  to 
things  while  I'm  gone,  and  soon  as  you 
see  me  at  the  gate  coming  back — if  I  live 
to  get  back — make  Judy  begin  bringing 
in  supper,  whatever  of  it's  cooked  done, 
because  I  just  know  that  the  egzitement 
I've  got  to  go  through  with,  it's  going 
to  be  absolute  nessary  for  me  to  have 
something  to  eat  soon  as  I  can  get  it  to 
get  my  strenth  back.  You  better  fetch 
me  a  tumbler  of  milk  now  to  start  with." 

"  It  will  all  come  right,  ma,"  said  Mar 
tha  assuringly. 

"  I  don't  know  how  it's  going  to  come 
nor  how  it's  going  to  go.  There,  you 
may  fill  the  tumbler  half-full  again." 

Swallowing  the  milk,  she  smacked 
her  lips  resignedly,  went  out,  and  after 
mounting,  called  out: 


flfcr.  tfortner's  Marital  Claims.      65 

"Mary,  tell  Ander  to  see  that  Puss' 
colt  don't  get  hurted.  Go  'long,  Puss!  " 

The  good  mare  struck  into  a  brisk 
amble,  and  her  mistress  was  in  her  seat 
before  the  first  hymn  was  ended. 

The  pastor  spoke  with  more  unction 
than  usual  for  a  Saturday  sermon.  "  Be 
of  good  comfort, "  was  the  text.  In  affec 
tionate,  occasionally  eloquent  words,  he 
commended  cheerful  submission  to  the 
conditions  in  which  Providence  has 
placed  us.  Let  all  remember  that  the 
highest  happiness,  next  to  efforts  to  help 
in  advancing  the  glory  of  the  Creator, 
consists  in  making  as  happy  as  possible 
those  around  us.  To  do  this  often  re 
quires  the  yielding  of  one's  own  will, 
and  sometimes  even  prudent  relaxation 
of  recognized  authority. 

During  the  discourse  several  eyes 
often  wandered  toward  Mr.  Fortner,  who, 
throughout,  regarded  the  preacher  with 
stern  fixity.  In  the  intermission  his  wife 
did  not  leave  her  seat.  He  went  out 
with  the  others  and  chatted  with  some 
whom  he  had  not  met  previously.  All 


66      dfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

saw  plainly  that  he  neither  desired  coun 
sel  nor  heeded  remonstrance. 

"Brother  Fortner,"  said  Mr.  Leadbet- 
ter,  "  were  always  rather  heady,  but  I 
never  saw  him  as  dead  sot  in  his  mind  as 
he  is  now.  The  poorer  shote  of  a  fellow 
that  Glaze  were,  it  look  like  the  worse 
he  hate  that  preacher  for  punishin'  him, 
when  everybody  else  know  he  done  right. 
Brother  Fortner  know  it  too;  but  some 
how  his  old  age  have  broke  out  on  him  so 
suddent  that  he  can't  hold  hisself  in.  I 
can't  but  hope  he  can  be  brought  down 
to  some  sort  o'  reason'ble.  What  I'm 
a'most  afraid  about  is  the  egzitement  it 
may  fling  sister  Fortner  intoo,  that  they 
isn't  a  finer  woman  in  this  whole  congre 
gation  o'  Babtis'  ner,  as  to  that,  in  this 
whole  region  of  country,  I  don't  keer 
how  fur  and  wide  it  is;  but  if  her  dander 
git  up,  the  fur  is  jest  obleeged  to  fly 
som'ers.  I  tried  to  git  him  to  leastways 
putt  the  thing  off  till  another  munt;  but 
he  say  no;  if  the  cong'egation  keer 
nothin'  for  the  'Postle  Paul,  it's  high 
time  for  it  to  come  out.  Knewed  brer 


dfcr.  ffortner's  flfcarital  Claims,      67 

Fortner  forty  year  and  better.     Never  see 
him  in  sech  a  tar'in'  swivit  before." 

After  a  few  minutes  they  re-entered  the 
house,  and  the  preacher,  for  the  time,  ac 
cording  to  the  purely  democratic  govern 
ment  of  the  denomination,  being  divested 
of  clerical  importance,  and  made  what 
was  termed  moderator,  took  a  chair  at  the 
foot  of  the  pulpit,  and  called  to  order. 
The  business,  so  pleasing  to  elderly  men, 
so  tedious  to  the  younger  and  the  women, 
except  a  very  few,  dragged  itself  along 
for  an  hour  or  so,  and  would  have  dragged 
far  longer  but  for  the  silence  of  Mr.  Fort 
ner,  who  during  this  time  seemed  to  be 
conning  the  indictment  which  was  on 
his  mind  to  prefer  against  the  wife  of  his 
bosom.  When  the  moderator  announced 
that  if  there  was  no  other  business  before 
the  conference  he  was  ready  to  hear  a 
motion  for  adjournment,  a  profoundly 
sorrowful  groan  came  up  from  the  great 
deep  of  Mr.  Fortner's  breast.  Then  ris 
ing,  he  began.  It  was  evident  that  he  had 
studied  carefully  the  words  which  he  in 
tended  to  pronounce  with  all  the  mild- 


68      .flftr,  jfortner'a  Marital  Claims, 

ness  yet  with  all  the  dignity  which  the 
occasion  demanded.  Of  his  prolonged 
discourse  I  can  report  only  the  exordium 
and  the  peroration.  Glancing  toward 
Wheelright  with  qualified  respect,  he  said : 

"Brer  Mod'rator,  if  I  ain't  mistakened 
in  my  a  readin'  o'  Scriptur',  the  good 
Lord  in  the  beginnin'  made  'em  male 
and  female;  that  is,  he  first  made  'em 
male,  and  then  he  made  'em  female,  which 
he  taken  one  of  Adam's  ribs  when  he 
were  asleep  a-cording  to  his  purpose,  a- 
includin'  mostly  the  raisin'  o' childern  to 
multiply  the  land  he  give  'em  to  ockepy 
and  their  gen'ration,  him  a-seein',  I  no 
doubts,  that  were  the  convenantest  way  to 
do  it.  A — a — and " 

But  pages  on  pages  would  be  required 
for  even  a  synopsis  of  that  speech. 
Among  other  things  was  his  own  solemn 
protest  against  being  regarded  as  opposed 
to  females  as  a  general  thing,  because,  in 
deed  except  for  one  of  them  which  was 
his  own  mother  quite  a  long  time  back, 
he  would  not  be  there  standing  on  his 
present  legs  on  that  interesting,  solemn, 


flfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims.      69 

and  present  occasion.  Nor  would  he 
deny  that  in  the  long  run  females  had 
their  use  without  which  society — well, 
indeed,  society — fact  is,  society,  that  is, 
you  may  say,  in  the  course  of  time  more 
or  less — why,  society  must  unavoidably 
die  out  and  be  no  society  of  any  sort.  It 
was  therefore  that  he  wanted  to  put  him 
self  right  on  these  points  before  the 
brethren  and  sisters.  The  main  thing 
with  women  was  for  them  to  find  out  what 
their  use  was,  and  then  stick  to  it;  and 
if  they  wouldn't,  then  they  would  have 
to  take  the  consequences.  He  closed  with 
these  words,  which  he  hoped  were  both 
apposite  and  delicate: 

"  And  now,  brer  Mod'rator,  with  these 
few  remarks,  I'm  sorry  to  have  to  say 
that  as  my  desires  in  my  own  family  have 
refused  actuil  and  positive  to  yield  to  me 
as  their  lawful  head,  I  have  made  these 
few  remarks  for  the  brothern  to  decide 
the  case  betwixt  us.  And  my  humble 
hopes  is  the  good  Lord  will  send  his 
mercies  and  his  blessin's  on  us  all — 
a-includin'  of  my  wife,  which,  Mirny 


70      d&r.  tfortner's  Marital  Claims. 

Pugely  as  was,  in  some  p'ints  of  view,  I 
say  it  bold,  she's  as  good  a  wife  as  any 
that  goes." 

Then  he  sat  down  and  covered  his  whole 
head  with  his  bandana. 

"Brother  Moderator,"  instantly  rising, 
began  a  young  man,  "  I  move  we  ad — 

Noticing  that  Mrs.  Fortner  was  rising, 
he  stopped,  saying:  "  I  yield  the  floor  for 
the  present." 

The  defendant  was  trembling  with 
emotion.  She  wished  that  she  had  stayed 
at  home,  so  sore  was  the  pain  of  resent 
ment  kindled  for  the  first  time  against 
her  husband,  whose  words,  as  they 
sounded  to  her,  showed  that  in  his  breast 
the  dominant  feeling  toward  women  in 
general  was  contempt.  Tears  coursed 
down  her  face,  and  the  violence  with 
which  she  wiped  them  away  with  her  hand 
kerchief  told  how  hot  was  the  anger 
that  had  forced  them  out,  and  how,  in 
decent  regard  for  appearances,  she  was 
trying  to  stifle  them.  All  except  her 
husband  regarded  her  with  intense  sym 
pathy. 


dfcr.  ffortner's  /Ifcarital  Claims       71 

"Brother  Moderator,"  she  began,  "I 
know,  even  if  the  Scriptur'  hadn't  said 
it,  that  it's  a  shame  for  women  to  let 
their  voice  be  heard  in  the  church,  and 
the  good  Lord  know  if  any  woman  were 
ever  ashameder  than  I  am  this  minute,  I 
pity  'em.  But,  as  everybody  know  who 
Jaymiah  Fortner  is  a-p'inting  at  by  the 
not  a-yieldin'  to  his  desires,  as  he  name 
it,  I  feel  like  it's  my  duty  to  my  very 
children  a  not  counting  in  myself  at  all, 
to  tell  this  congregation  whether  they'll 
believe  it  or  not,  that  as  for  the  yielding 
and  the  humoring  I  have  been  a-doing  for 
Jaymiah  Fortner  for  forty-nine  years 
going  on  fifty  the  fifteenth  of  this  com 
ing  September  the — why  the  very  multi- 
p'clation  table  would  have  to  be  brought 
in  to  tell  the  number  o'  times." 

At  the  murmurings  of  favor  following 
these  words  the  handkerchief  was  torn 
from  Mr.  Fortner's  head,  and  his  face 
showed  that  already  anxiety  had  begun 
to  cast  out  all  other  feelings. 

"  I  won't  deny,"  she  continued,  "that 
he  have  been  one  of  the  best  husbands  any 


72      /for.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

woman  ever  got  married  to,  if  sometimes 
not  often  but  sometimes  he  have  got 
fretted  because  he  have  wanted  me  to  do 
and  I  wouldn't  things  that  wern't  for  the 
best  which  if  he  was  pinned  down  to  kiss 
the  Book  he'd  be  obliged  to  say  I'm  tell 
ing  of  the  truth.  But  there's  one  thing 
and  special  since  he  have  got  old,  that 
his  eternal  and  his  everlasting  a-coting 
the  'Postle  Paul  on  me  when  I've  done 
right  or  honest  tried  to  do  it,  it  have 
made  me  so  tired  sometimes  that  fact  is 
I  never  pestered  myself  so  very  much 
about  w/iatthe  'Postle  Paul  thought  about 
women  be  it  little  or  be  it  nothing  as 
long  as  I  was  trying  to  do  the  best  I 
knewed  how.  But  in  the  long  run  in  the 
very  longest  run  I  have  humored  Jaymiah 
Fortner  and  fixed  things  to  suit  him  and 
saved  him  all  the  worry  and  all  the  trou 
ble,  could  in  the  raising  of  our  children 
and  everything  else  a  woman  in  a  family 
is  called  on  for,  and  a-even  tried  to  not 
get  clean  wore  out  with  his  never  being 
tired  of  norating  how  contempible  and 
good-for-nothing  the'Postle  Paul  thought 


flfcr.  tfortner's  dfcarttal  Claims,      73 

about  women  in  general,  only  sometimes 
I  acknowledge  I  have  a'most  wished  in 
my  heart  the  'Postle  Paul  had  have  a 
wife  and  knewed  for  his  own  self  how  it 
is  about  things,  that  they  isn't  to  my 
honest  opinion,  they  isn't  any  lonesome, 
disappinted  bachelor  ever  did  live  that 
know  all  the  worry  and  the  trouble  and 
the  one  thing  and  another  that  married 
women  has  to  go  through  with. " 

Not  once  did  she  turn  toward  her  hus 
band,  nor  note  his  appealing  looks  and 
gesticulations. 

Then  her  voice  lowered. 

"And,  brother  Moderator,  what's  the 
desires  my  husband  complain  I  ain't 
willing  to  yield  to,  and  think  it's  a  need 
to  fetch  me  up  in  the  church,  that  I 
always  did  believe  it  was  better  to  let 
such  things  settle  theirselves  the  best  way 
they  can  at  home  ?  Why,  it's  to  break  up 
in  my  old  age  and  move  away  from  the 
place  where  I  was  borned  at,  and  always 
lived  at,  and  got  married  at,  and  my 
parents  died  and  left  it  to  me  and  they 
both  of  'em  lays  buried  there  back  o'  the 


74      /iftr.  ffortner's  /Ifcarital  Claims* 

g'yarden,  and  four  out  o'  the  nine  chil 
dren  I've  bore  to  Jaymiah  Fortner  lays 
there  too,  under  the  cedars  and  the 
chainy-trees,  and  the  girls  has  planted 
rose-bushes  there  and  althys,  and  cape- 
jes'mines,  and  lilocks,  and  lagestreamers 
and  some  wild  olives,  and  they  ain't  a 
grave  there  that  hain't  a  little  bush  of 
some  sort  at  the  head;  and  many  time  of 
a  Sunday  evenin'  I  take  my  Bible  and  I 
go  down  there  and  I  set  down  on  a  bench, 
and — and —  But  seeing  the  handker 

chiefs  rising  to  faces  female  and  male, 
she  paused,  gave  herself  an  indignant 
shake,  resolved  to  hold  on  some  longer 
at  least  to  the  strength  which  she  was 
losing,  and,  in  argumentative  tone,  con 
tinued: 

"  Now,  brother  Moderator,  I've  been  a- 
reading  in  Corinth 'ans,  where  it  say,  'Let 
not  the  wife  depart  from  her  husband,' 
and  I  have  never  no  more  wanted  to  part 
from  Jaymiah  Fortner  than  I  have  wanted 
to  part  from  my  very  soul  and  body. 
When  I  were  married  to  Jaymiah  Fortner 
the  Scriptur'  and  the  law  of  the  land  give 


flfcr.  ffortnet's  Marital  Claims,      75 

me  and  all  I  had  to  him;  but  they  didn't 
do  it  any  more  complete  free  than  I  give 
myself,  jest  like  I  give  my  name  of  Mimy 
Pugely  that  was;  and  I  jined  the  Babtist 
Church  for  nothing  else  in  the  world  but 
because  he  belonged  there,  and  I  thought 
it  was  right,  and  I  wanted  not  to  be  sip'- 
rate  from  him  in  not  one  single  thing. 
And,  therefore,  if  any  departing  is  to  be 
done  by  anybody,  it  will  be  Jaymiah 
Fortner  a-departing  from  me  and  not  me 
from  him,  when  he  move  away  from  a 
place  where  there  is  too  many  things  to 
keep  me  from  being  willing  to  be  dragged 
away  from  it  at  my  time  of  life,  when  he 
knows — and  he  hasn't  forgot,  because  he 
promised  it  if  he  outlive  me — that  I  have 
picked  out  the  place  where  I  want  my 
grave  dug.  And  if  I  have  to  be  turned 
out  of  the  church,  why  it'll  just  have  to 
be  done,  that's  all.  For  I  couldn't  go 
different  if  I  was  to  try  and  keep  on  a 
trying.  And  I'm  wore  out  clean  com 
plete  with  this  day's  work;  and  all  the 
time  I've  been  in  this  house  and  on  this 
unuseless  business  I  been  a-hearing  of 
6 


76      dfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

my  poor  mar  Puss  a-whickerkig  after  me 
in  the  grave-yard  grove  out  yonder  be 
cause  she  know  that  /know  it  were  high 
time  three  hours  ago  and  over  that  she 
were  took  home  to  her  colt.  And  my 
own  children  and  all  my  other  business 
has  been  and  is  now  a-needing  of  me 
which  is  the  very  last  one  of  these  un 
called-for  scattery  words  that  I'm  that 
mortified  in  my  mind  I  got  no  more  to 
say  about  it." 

She  turned,  went  humbly  out,  and  if 
ever  a  good  beast  showed  joy  at  the  com 
ing  of  her  rider  it  was  that  same  Puss. 

"Poor  Puss!  there,  there!  Missis  is 
as  bad  off  to  get  home  as  she  is;  there, 
there!" 

Just  as  she  was  mounting  the  horse 
block  the  people  were  emerging  from  the 
house,  and  one  of  the  young  women  sent 
by  Mrs.  Leadbetter  ran  to  report  what 
had  happened  after  she  had  left,  and  beg 
her  to  delay  for  congratulation. 

"  Thanky,  Lizzie,  honey;  tell  your 
aunty,  thanky.  Puss  nor  me  can't  stay 
any  longer.  Go  on,  Puss!" 


dfcr,  ffortnet's  Marital  Claims,      77 

And  Puss  went. 

For  several  minutes  during  the  defence, 
Mr.  Fortner  had  been  stretching  forth 
first  one  arm,  then  another,  in  mute  pite 
ous  appealing.  At  its  close,  he  rose 
with  both  extended,  but  before  he  could 
open  his  mouth,  the  member  who  had 
yielded  cried,  saying: 

"  I  claim  the  floor,  brother  Moderator, 
and  I  move  that  this  conference  do  now 
adjourn." 

"  Second  the  motion  !  "  came  from  a 
dozen  voices. 

Over  the  sound  of  the  voting,  Mr.  Fort- 
ner's  trembling  voice  rose  with  the 
words: 

"Oh,  brer  Mod'rator!  Oh,  brothern 
and  sisters!  I  take  it  all  back,  all,  all, 
<7//back!" 

Then  he  sat  down  and  wept  as  he  had 
not  since  he  was  a  little  child. 

It  was  nearing  nightfall  when  he  left 
the  ground,  for  he  must  say  to  individuals 
what  he  had  said  in  public,  and  pour  out 
praises  upon  praises  of  her  who  was  dearer 
than  his  life.  Fewer  things  could  have 


73      dfcr.  ffortner's  Marital  Claims. 

been  lower  than  the  humbleness  with 
which  he  slowly  wended  his  way.  The 
bare  suggestion  of  his  departure  without 
his  wife  had  excited  a  fear  which  was 
appalling  in  the  extreme.  He  had  not 
dreamed  of  such  a  scene  and  such  an 
overthrow.  During  her  passionate  de 
clamation,  she  seemed  to  have  been  en 
dued  with  all  the  beauty  of  her  youth, 
and  there  was  revived  in  his  breast  more 
than  the  eager  love  with  which  half  a 
century  ago  he  had  sought  her  in  the 
house  whither  he  was  going.  How  could 
he  have  so  strangely  deluded  himself 
about  her  loyalty  to  him?  He  must  be 
growing  older  in  more  ways  than  he  knew. 
Among  his  thoughts  was  one  of  much  sad 
ness,  even  of  some  sort  of  compassion  for 
his  favorite  apostle,  and  he  recalled 
how  far  back  in  the  past  he  was  removed, 
and  reflected  that  perhaps  some  at  least 
of  his  uninspired  teachings  might  as  well 
be  regarded  as  doomed  to  become  obso 
lete.  One  thing,  if  no  more,  was  fixed  in 
his  mind  with  certitude  firm  as  the  earth 
on  which  he  trod,  and  the  heavens  above 


tfftr,  jfortner's  Marital  Claims.      TO 

it — it  was  that  while  breath  was  in  his 
body  he  would  never  again  quote,  in  the 
hearing  of  Mimy  Pugely  that  was,  that 
saint's  words  touching  the  powers  of  men 
and  women's  obligations. 

The  fifteenth  day  of  September  was 
fair,  serene,  sweet  in  autumnal  promises, 
and  blessing  was  on  the  gathering  and 
the  feast.  The  old  bridegroom,  more 
gallant  and  gay  than  fifty  years  before, 
believed  that  they  were  the  fittest  words 
to  bestow  upon  his  bride  when  he  declared 
that  she  was  fairer  than  all  her  daughters. 


Old  GUS  Lawson. 


"  With  pleasing  toyes  he  would  her  entertaine." 

— Faerie  Quecne. 

CHAPTER    I. 

IT  is  interesting  to  think  of  the  ideas 
that  used  to  be  held  by  parents,  and 
by  many  others  who  were  not  parents, 
about  the  importance  of  the  rod  in  the  edu 
cation  of  boys  and  girls.  They  seemed 
to  believe  that  a  child  of  either  sex,  good 
bad,  or  indifferent,  could  not  be  expected 
to  get  satisfactory  development  without 
receiving  during  that  while  an  amount 
of  flogging  that  in  these  days  would  be 
thought  enormous.  But  the  one  who 
held  this  notion  with  greater  confidence 
than  any  person  with  whose  opinion  I 
ever  had  opportunities  to  become  ac 
quainted  was  neither  a  parent  nor  a 

grown  man,  but  a  schoolboy. 

80 


<3us  Xawsom  81 


I  do  not  remember  how  it  came  to  pass 
that  Augustus  Lawson,  even  in  the  earli 
est  of  his  teens,  began  to  be  called  "  Old 
Gus.  "  Most  of  the  girls,  however,  not 
willing  to  be  regarded  as  wanting  in 
decorum,  called  him  "Mr.  Old  Gus." 
Old  Gus  —  now,  after  the  lapse  of  more 
than  fifty  years,  I  cannot  feel  like  speak 
ing  of  him  by  any  other  name  —  had  been 
a  big  baby,  and  he  had  been  growing  big 
ger  until  the  period  of  the  beginning  of 
this  story,  when,  eighteen  years  old,  he 
was  six  feet  four  inches  tall,  and  weighed 
one  hundred  and  sixty  pounds.  He  had 
reddish  hair,  a  face  very  fair,  but  with 
so  many  freckles  that  a  goodly  number  of 
them,  not  caring,  as  it  seemed,  to  be 
crowded  so  much,  had  emigrated  and 
colonized  prosperous  settlements  upon  his 
great,  long  hands  and  fingers.  He  had 
very  large,  pale-blue  eyes  and  an  ex 
tremely  small  mouth.  This  mouth  was 
never  entirely  shut,  and  it  was  doubtful 
if  it  could  be.  Always  lazy  about  books, 
and  rather  so  about  work  of  any  kind, 
during  the  seven  or  eight  years  at  school 


©ID  ©us  OLawsom 

he  had  learned  little  more  than  a  smat 
tering  of  English  grammar,  geography, 
and  arithmetic;  yet  in  this  while  had 
gotten  whippings  that  in  numbers  were 
like  the  hairs  on  his  head  and  the  freckles 
on  his  face  and  hands.  When  he  had 
come  to  be  eighteen,  his  mother,  a  widow 
with  a  small,  nicely  kept  dwelling  and 
a  moderate  property  in  land  and  negroes, 
residing  a  mile  south  of  the  village, 
wished  him  to  stop  from  school  and  go  to 
work  upon  the  farm.  But  he  begged  for 
another  year,  and  as  he  was  an  affection 
ate  son,  and,  besides,  rather  shiftless 
about  any  sort  of  field  or  domestic  busi 
ness,  she  consented. 

"The  simple  fact  of  the  business,"  he 
would  often  say,  "it  is  jest  about  this: 
I've  been  a-goin'  to  school  so  long,  and 
I've  got  so  many  whippin's  while  I  were 
a-gettin'  of  my  edjication,  that  when  it 
was  complete,  and  I  don't  need  no  more, 
I  got  so  that  I  jes  loves  to  be  thar,  a- 
knowin'  how  much  good  it  have  done 
me,  and  me,  a-endurin'  the  time,  a-not 
knowin'  ner  a-expectin'.  I  don't  git 


(Bus  Xawson.  83 


whipped  now,  of  course;  but  somehow, 
with  my  expe'unce,  a-knowin'  what  good 
they  is  in  whipping  I  loves  to  set  thar 
and  see  it  a-goin'  on." 

Those  who  had  been  with  him  in  his 
younger  time  used  to  say  that  Old  Gus 
Lawson  did  not  mind  a  whipping  any 
more  than  it  was  minded  by  any  old, 
rusty-coated  apple-tree.  It  was  certain 
that  during  this  last  year,  in  which  he 
was  taking  leisurely  his  post-graduate 
course,  his  enjoyment  of  what  he  called 
the  fun  of  the  thing  was  great  when  one 
or  more  of  his  schoolmates  received  the 
discipline  which  was  so  beneficial.  Es 
pecially  was  this  the  case  when  the  recip 
ient  was  a  girl. 

"Because,"  he  argued,  "  wimming,  it's 
their  business  not  only  to  be  mothers,  but 
it's  their  business  to  be  the  verybul'arks 
of  society,  as  them  people  that  makes 
Fourth  o'  July  speeches  calls  'em,  and  it 
won't  do  for  'em  to  be  raised  wrong.  I 
tell  you  that,  now." 

Yet  he  loved  the  fun  as  much  as  he 
valued  the  utility.  Without  a  grain  of 


84  ©ID  <3ua  3Law0on, 

malice,  or  envy,  or  jealousy  in  his  nature, 
still  I  have  witnessed,  often  and  often, 
in  his  great  big  face  a  delight  that  was 
up  to  the  full  when  boys  or  girls  were 
crying  out  under  the  infliction  of  the  rod. 
Indeed,  when  matters  in  that  line  became 
rather  duller  than  he  could  have  wished, 
occasionally  he  would  endeavor  to  en 
liven  them  in  ways  that  I  will  tell  about 
after  a  while. 

There  was  not  a  single  boy  or  girl  in 
the  school  who  did  not  like  him;  for, 
besides  being  as  amiable  in  disposition 
as  anybody  in  the  whole  world  could  be, 
his  willingness  to  do  favors  for  others, 
especially  us  little  ones,  was  boundless. 
But  after  using  the  word  "boundless"  I 
have  the  thought  that  perhaps  I  ought 
not  to  have  done  so  until  I  came  to  de 
scribe  his  pockets.  I  remember  him  as 
clothed  never  otherwise  than  in  his  long, 
baggy,  walnut-dyed  breeches  and  waist 
coat,  over  which,  with  varying  shades 
of  gray,  was  the  longest  frock-coat,  and, 
open  from  the  outsides  of  the  skirts,  it 
had  the  widest,  deepest  pockets  that  I 


©ID  Gus  Xawscm.  85 

had  ever  seen  before  or  that  I  expect  ever 
to  see  again.  In  those  pockets,  as  well 
as  in  those  of  his  other  garments,  he  car 
ried  habitually  such  articles — chiefly 
eatables — as  children,  especially  girls, 
were  particularly  fond  of — bits  of  sugar 
and  ginger-cake,  peaches,  apples,  and 
other  fruit  of  any  and  all  stages  before 
and  after  ripeness,  especially  crab- 
apples,  with  small  packages  of  salt  to  go 
along  with  those  which  he  gave  to  the 
girls,  who  were  intensely  fond  of  eating 
them  in  school  hours,  when  making  wry 
faces  over  their  sourness  was  attended 
with  so  many  risks.  Then  in  these  store 
houses  were  hickory  nuts,  chestnuts, 
walnuts,  chinkapins,  hawberries  red 
and  black,  marbles  won  at  sweepstakes, 
balls  made  of  strips  cut  from  worn-out 
india-rubber  shoes  and  wound  with 
woollen  thread,  slate  pencils  and  lead 
pencils  that  he  had  picked  up,  goose 
quills  for  making  pens  and  toothpicks. 
Whatever  period  of  the  year  it  was,  Old 
Gus  on  every  morning  brought  these  vast 
pockets  full  of  stores  of  one  kindoran- 


86  ©ID  <$us  Xaw6on. 

other,  and  during  the  rest  of  the  day  dis 
tributed  as  freely  as  if  he  had  been 
another  Santa  Glaus.  Besides  these 
things,  behind  the  lapels  of  his  coat  and 
waistcoat  and  on  his  sleeve-cuffs  were 
any  number  of  assorted  pins  and  needles, 
the  latter  already  threaded,  so  as  to  be 
ready  for  sudden  emergiencies  in  his  own 
or  others'  clothing.  And  people  may  be 
lieve  me  or  not,  just  as  they  please,  but 
it  is  a  fact  that  he  never  was  without  a 
small  vial  of  camphor,  and  one  of  opodel 
doc,  or  other  salve  for  healing,  and  strips 
of  cloth  for  bandaging  cut  fingers,  skinned 
noses  and  chins,  and  stumped  toes.  The 
girls  used  to  say  that  he  was  the  very 
convenientest  boy  in  school,  and  I  have 
heard  some  grown  persons  say  that  it  was 
their  belief  that  if  he  were  to  go  upon  a 
journey  of  a  week  he  could  carry  in  his 
pockets  supplies  to  last  him  throughout. 
As  for  his  pocket-knives,  I  think  best  to 
let  them  go  into  the  next  chapter. 


©ID  <3ua  Xawson.  87 


CHAPTER    II. 

POCKET-KNIVES  being  articles  that 
1  in  a  school  are  subject  most  often 
to  be  called  for  on  loan,  Old  Gus 
was  seldom  without  as  many  as  four 
ranging  in  original  value  from  seven- 
pence  (twelve  and  a  half  cents)  to  half  a 
dollar.  These  he  would  lend  freely,  the 
worth  of  the  instrument  loaned  depend 
ing  partly  upon  the  age,  partly  upon  his 
estimate  of  the  carefulness  and  responsi 
bility,  but  chiefly  upon  the  sex  of  the 
borrower.  Reasonably  gracious  in  this 
respect  to  boys,  even  the  smallest,  he 
was  never  known  to  refuse  a  loan  of  a 
knife  of  some  sort  to  the  request  *of  a 
girl.  Yet  there  was  one,  small  and  four- 
bladed,  with  a  white  handle,  claimed  to 
be  of  ivory,  but  declared  to  be  nothing 
but  bone  by  those  who  were  refused  the 
use  of  it.  This  knife,  which  he  often 
said  with  much  solemnity  had  come  all  the 
way  from  Augusta — the  favorite  city  of 
all  middle-Georgia  people — and  had  there 


88  ©ID  (Bus  Xawaon, 

cost  a  dollar  one  and  nine  (a  dollar 
and  thirty-seven  and  a  half  cents),  was 
kept  wrapped  in  a  piece  of  buckskin,  and 
carried  in  one  of  his  vest  pockets;  and 
two  persons,  and  those  two  alone,  could 
ever  get  the  loan  of  it.  No  boy  ever 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing  as  asking  for  it, 
with  any  hope  of  success,  and  every  girl 
but  two  forebore,  except  occasionally  for 
the  mischief  of  seeing  the  trouble  that 
refusal  cost  him.  These  were  Miranda 
Attaway  and  Sarah  Ann  Shy. 

Miranda  was  a  small,  slender  bru 
nette,  pretty,  but  thoughtful-looking  and 
tongue-tied.  For  the  purpose  of  untying 
her  tongue,  as  it  seemed,  she  had  con 
tracted  the  habit  of  thrusting  a  minute 
portion  of  the  end  of  that  member  out 
of  her  pretty  mouth  and  pressing  her 
lower  lip  against  it,  which  habit,  in  spite 
of  its  leading  her  to  be  called  "  tongue- 
sucker"  by  some  of  the  ruder  boys,  made 
her  look  very  interesting.  She  was  about 
twelve  years  old,  although  she  looked 
younger.  Sarah  Ann,  of  the  same  age, 
was  fair,  fattish,  and  red-haired,  like  Old 


<$us  Xawson,  89 


Gus,  but  without  a  freckle,  except  an 
occasional  one  that  took  advantage  of 
her  carelessness  about  wearing  her  bon 
net,  and  lived  a  brief  life  upon  her  lovely 
cheek.  Almost  always  she  wore  a  smil 
ing  countenance.  The  exceptions  were 
when  she  was  being  whipped  for  her 
pranks  in  school-time.  While  these  ex 
ceptions  were  numerous,  they  W7ere  eva 
nescent,  and  interfered  little  with  the 
fun  that  she  gloried  in  making.  Her 
parents  dwelt  a  mile  east  of  the  village, 
those  of  Miranda  half  a  mile  south  in  the 
direction  of  the  Lawsons.  Both  families 
were  industrious,  plain  people,  and  lived 
well  on  the  small  income  arising  from 
their  property. 

These  girls,  so  unlike,  were  almost 
constant  companions,  occupying  the  same 
desk  in  school,  being  the  very  front  of 
those  assigned  to  the  girls.  The  seat 
of  Mr.  Hodge,  the  teacher,  was  at  the 
fireplace,  facing  both  rows  of  desks.  Old 
Gus,  being  so  near  a  man,  was  allowed 
to  have  a  whole  desk  to  himself;  and 
that  next  to  the  wall  at  the  end  of  the 


90  ©ID  (Bus  SLawson. 

schoolhouse,  in  the  rear  of  Mr.  Hodge. 
This  gentleman,  although  not  of  the  very 
best  temper  in  the  world,  yet  was  not  at 
all  cruel,  as  some  schoolmasters,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  used  to  be.  He  whipped 
freely  and  conscientiously,  but  seldom 
very  hard.  It  seemed  as  if  he  was  ap 
prehensive  that,  unless  he  whipped  with 
the  spirit  and  regularity  exacted  by  the 
public,  parents  would  become  dissatisfied 
and  turn  him  out  of  his  office,  or  that  his 
scholars  might  lose  some  of  the  respect 
which  they  had  for  him,  and  perhaps  the 
boys,  whenever  they  would  want  a  special 
holiday,  and  could  not  get  it  otherwise, 
might  "bar  him  out,"  or  take  him  to  the 
spring-branch,  not  far  off,  and  give  him 
a  ducking.  I  think  that  his  mind  was  to 
do  no  more  whipping  and  no  less  than 
what  was  necessary  to  satisfy  his  patrons, 
to  save  from  decay  his  reputation,  and 
to  keep  his  position  entirely  secure  and 
comfortable  all  around.  He  put  Sarah 
Ann  in  front,  because  she  was  the  most 
mischievous  girl  in  school.  Miranda  he 
would  have  allowed  to  settle  as  far  down 


(Bus  Xawson.  91 


in  the  row  as  she  might  have  chosen; 
but  Miranda  preferred  to  be  alongside 
her  best  friend,  and  take  the  consequences 
of  such  contiguity.  Indeed,  the  truth  is 
that  Miranda,  notwithstanding  her  seri 
ous-looking  face  and  her  soft,  rather 
pitiful  voice,  had  in  her  own  way  nearly 
as  much  love  of  fun  as  Sarah  Ann. 

There  was  another  cause  why  Old  Gus 
had  been  so  favored  in  the  matter  of 
position.  Mr.  Hodge,  for  convenient 
and  prudential  reasons,  was  not  disposed 
for  him  to  be  where  he  himself  could 
constantly  observe  his  actions.  Then, 
this  position  was  the  very  one  Old  Gus 
preferred,  because  his  two  favorites  were 
just  in  front  of  him,  and  convenient  both 
for  enjoying  the  sight  of  their  interesting 
faces  and  conferring  upon  them,  by  signs 
and  otherwise,  such  assistance  as  his 
judgment  decided  that  they  needed  and 
his  great  fondness  for  them  would  not 
allow  him  to  withhold.  In  the  next  chap 
ter  I  will  endeavor  to  show  in  what  man 
ner  this  charitable  service  was  bestowed. 
7 


92  ©ID  Gus  Xawson. 


CHAPTER    III. 

CONVINCED     of     the     wisdom     and 
kindness    of    his    reasons    for    thus 
helping  these  little   girls,  Old  Gus  often 
gave   expression   to   them    about    in  this 
wise: 

"  You  see,  I  can't  help  likin'  Sarann 
some,  because  she's  red-headed  like  me; 
and  then  she's  so  mischeevious  that  I 
loves  to  be  on  hand  when  she's  a-cuttin' 
up  in  the  schoolhouse,  a  not  expectin' 
Mr.  Hodge  to  notice  her,  and  then  him 
come  down  on  her  with  his  switch.  And 
then  it  sweeten  me  down  to  my  very 
bones  to  hear  her  holler,  and  make  out 
like  he's  a  mighty  nigh  a-killin'  of  her, 
when  he  ain't  a  hardly  a-hurtin'  of  her  a 
single  bit,  but  is  a-givin'  it  to  her  be 
cause  he  know  people  is  a-expectin'  him 
to  keep  up  the  a'thority  of  his  school. 
Now  as  for  M' randy,  she  ain't  red 
headed,  as  people  can  see  for  theirself, 
but  she's  mighty  nigh  as  fond  of  her  mis 
cheevious  as  Sarann,  a  notwithstandin' 


©ID  <3us  TLawson*  93 

she  look  so  solemn  exceptin'  when  she's 
obleeged  to  laugh  at  Sarann  or  me,  one 
or  t'other.  And  when  she  do  begin  to 
put  up  her  little  tongue-tie  pleadin'  to 
Mr.  Hodge,  and  the  man  he  have  to  actuil 
stop  before  he  have  give  her  half  as 
much  as  she  deserve,  because  she  look  so 
pitiful,  and  beg  so  pitiful,  I  declar*  on 
my  soul  that  it  make  me  feel  like 
laughin'  so  I'd  jes  holler  out,  if  it  wern't 
in  the  schoolhouse,  because  they  ain't 
any  fun  that  is  equil  to  it.  And  but,  be 
sides  all  that,  it  do  'em  some  of  the  good 
they  need  bad,  in  a-loosenin'  of  their 
skin,  and  lettin'  'em  git  their  growth 
out  of  the  little  teenchy  things  they  is. 
I've  had  the  expe'unce  of  whippin',  and 
I  call  myself  a  example  of  the  good  it  do, 
not  only  to  boys  but  to  girls,  in  gittin' 
'em  outo'  their  runty  fix  in  which  they're 
bound  to  keep  onless  they're  whipped;  at 
least  occasional,  and,  of  course,  reason 
able  in  the  case  of  girls.  This  is  what 
make  me  take  such  a  likin'  to  both  of 
them  children,  and  I  couldn't  keep  'em, 
even  if  I  was  to  try,  from  takin'  out  of 


94  ©10  6us  ILawson, 

my  pockets  anything  that  ary  one  of  'em 
wants." 

It  was  interesting  to  see  his  relations 
with  them.  Liberal  with  all,  both  in 
giving  out  his  supplies  and  lending  his 
knives,  yet  there  were  two  favors  that 
were  restricted  to  Sarah  Ann  and  Mir 
anda,  one  of  which  was  the  loan  of  his 
dollar-one-and-nine  knife,  and  the  other, 
taking  with  their  own  hands  whatever 
they  wanted  out  of  his  pockets.  This 
last  liberty  the  larger  girls  did  not  desire, 
and  they  would  not  have  accepted  the 
offer  of  it.  But  Sarah  Ann  and  Miranda! 
Knowing  that  they  had  full  command 
over  him  and  all  his  store,  their  habit 
was  to  pick  and  choose  according  to  their 
varying  wants. 

"Thtop,  Mithter  Old  Guth,  and  come 
here,"  Miranda  often  said;  "me  and 
Tharann  wrant  thomething,  and  we  don't 
egthactly  know  what  it  ith. " 

Then,  one  on  one  side  and  the  other 
on  the  other,  they  would  dive  their  hands 
and  arms  up  to  their  elbows,  haul  out 
and  empty  into  their  aprons  quantities 


©ID  (Bus  3Law0on.  95 

upon  quantities,  and,  after  selecting  such 
as  they  preferred,  dump  back  the  rest. 
During  this  while,  looking  down  upon 
them  alternately  with  much  fondness,  his 
little  mouth  would  make  as  big  a  smile 
as  it  could. 

"That'll  do,"  one  of  them  would  say; 
"you  may  go  now." 

"That  all  you  got  to  say?"  he  might 
remonstrate.  "  Them  other  girls  have 
got  some  manners,  but  you  two 

"  Oh,  we  thank  you,  Mithter  Old 
Guth,"  Miranda  would  plead,  "  jutht  ath 
much  ath  they  do,  but  whath  the  uthe  of 
thayin'  tho  every  thingle  time?  People 
thath  alwayth  having  to  thank  people  get 
tired  of  it  after  a  while.  You  know  jutht 
ath  well  ath  you  know  anything  that 
me  and  Tharann  like  you  the  betht  of  all 
the  boyth  in  thith  thchool.  Don't  we, 
Tharann?" 

"Of  course  we  do,"  Sarah  Ann  would 
answer;  "but  he  came  mighty  nigh  lend 
ing  our  Augusty  knife  the  other  day  to 
Susan  Leadbetter. " 

"You  know  I  didn't  want  to  lend  it  to 


96  ©ID  <Su6  Xawsom 

her,  Sarann  Shy,  and  I  didn't.  What's 
the  use  o'  your  plaguin'  me  that  way, 
Sarann?"  he  would  humbly  remon 
strate. 

In  such  wise  Sarah  Ann  and  Miranda 
would  tease  him  sometimes.  Susan 
Leadbetter  was  the  only  girl  whom  they 
regarded  as  possible  to  get  between  them 
and  Old  Gus.  For  the  Leadbetters  were 
good  people  adjoining  the  Lawsons,  and 
having  about  equal  property.  And  then 
Susan  was  at  all,  handsome  girl,  and  so 
nobody  would  have  been  surprised  if  Old 
Gus  in  time  were  to  conceive  a  special 
partiality  for  her.  But  thus  far  he  had 
never  shown  any  sign  pointing  in  that 
direction,  and  it  was  one  of  his  boasts 
that  he  never  had  been  in  love  in  all  his 
life. 

"Ah,  Mithter  Old  Guth,"  Miranda  said 
one  day,  "I've  heard  old  people  thay 
bragging  ith  dangereth."  Then  taking 
hers  and  Sarah  Ann's  knife  out  of  his 
waistcoat  pocket,  she  unwrapped  it,  and, 
handing  him  back  the  buckskin,  said: 

"There,  don't  you  go  and  lothe  it,  or 


(Bus  Xawson.  97 


let  it  get  ruthty."     Then  she  went  her 
way. 

Gratified  as  he  was  by  the  growth  made 
by  his  favorites,  still  its  rapidity  was  not 
entirely  satisfactory.  Therefore,  partly 
for  the  purpose  of  enhancing  it,  and 
partly  for  the  sake  of  the  fun,  he  managed 
sometimes  from  his  retired  position  to 
throw  them  into  laughter  which,  on  being 
detected  by  the  master,  would  be  followed 
quickly  by  desired  results. 

"Oh,  my!"  he  said  often  with  greatest 
glee,  "  it's  positive  music  to  hear  'em 
when  they're  caught.  Sarann  farly 
bellers;  but  when  M'randy  comes  out 
with  her  keen  little  tongue,  that  it's  all 
so  tied  up,  if  it  don't  sound  sweet,  the 
same  if  it  was  a  little  young  bird,  and 
I'd  actuil  feel  sorry  for  her  if  't  weren't 
for  the  good  I  know  it's  a-doin'  of  'em 
both,  that  it  mighty  nigh  seem  to  me  it'll 
take  more  whippin's  than  any  one  of  'em 
gits  to  make  'em  grow  of  any  size  worth 
talkin'  about,  let  alone  the  ever  bein' 
among  the  bul'arks  o'  society.  And  so, 
occasion'  ly,  when  things  is  down,  and  I 


©ID  (Sue  ILawson. 


see  them  children  a-needin'  o'  some  stir- 
rin'  up,  I  wait  to  git  their  eye  when  Mr. 
Hodge  ain't  a-noticin'  of  'em,  and  then 
I  come  the  squir'l  a-gnawin'  at  a  hicker- 
nut,  or  a  rabbit  a-eatin'  greens.  They 
can't  stand  nary  one  o'  them,  special  in 
the  schoolhouse,  and  then  you  ought  to 
see  how  the  little  ones  in  general,  and 
them  two  in  partic'lar,  how  they  can't 
help  bein'  caught  a-giglin',  and  so  be 
took  up  and  whipped.  I  ain't  never 
afeared  of  their  peachin'  on  me  to  Mr. 
Hodge,  because  they  know  if  they  do,  no 
more  crab-apples  and  things  from  me, 
which  crab-apples  is  things  I  despises 
myself  without  they're  b'iled  along  of  a 
whole  lot  of  sugar  to  take  some  o'  that 
everlastin'  sour  out  of  'em;  but  it's  as- 
tonishin'  how  many  of  'em  them  girls 
will  destroy,  special  when  you  give  'em 
salt  to  go  'long  with  'em.  Yes,  sir;  they 
know  better  than  to  go  to  work  to  break 
up  that  business.  No;  they  ain't  no 
such  low-down  meanness  in  our  school." 
The  performances  thus  referred  to  were 
so  funny  to  the  girls  that  their  benign 


©ID  (Bus  ILawson. 


intentions  always  succeeded.  The  very 
idea  of  a  person  so  big,  long,  and  slow- 
moving  claiming  to  personate  as  small 
and  nimble  a  beast  as  a  squirrel  or  a 
rabbit  was  absurd  to  the  last  degree. 
Ridiculous  enough  was  the  former  with 
his  hickory-nut  between  his  forepaws, 
digging,  or  pretending  to  dig  into  the 
shell  with  his  long,  white  teeth.  But  the 
rabbit  at  his  meal  of  collards  or  turnip 
greens  was  yet  more  interesting.  He 
used  to  declare  on  his  very  honor  that 
this  was  done  faithfully  to  life,  as  often 
he  had  watched  from  a  crack  of  the  fence 
around  the  garden  or  turnip-patch  and 
witnessed  the  scene.  If  he  had  not  a 
leaf  from  one  of  the  trees  in  the  grove, 
provided  for  the  purpose,  he  improvised 
with  his  copy-book.  It  was  curious  as 
well  as  irresistibly  laughable  to  observe 
his  actions  while  in  the  role  of  this 
favorite  animal.  The  curve  in  his  back, 
made  so  from  inactivity  mainly,  but 
partly  from  the  habit  of  getting  down 
nearer  to  a  level  with  those  whose  com 
pany  he  liked  most,  became  much  more 


100  ©ID  ©us  Xawson, 

noticeable  as  he  bowed  his  head  over  his 
leaf.  As  interesting  were  his  facial  ex 
pressions.  Practice  had  made  him  per 
fect  in  broadening  his  eyeballs,  giving 
greater  roundness  to  his  profile,  flatten 
ing  his  thin  lips,  and  passing  his  teeth 
through  their  various  playings  and  con 
tortions,  and  the  most  dainty,  modest, 
seemingly  embarrassed,  even  almost 
painful,  way  in  which,  moving  the  while 
his  long  ears  forward  and  backward,  he 
munched  in  silence  and  with  great  rapid 
ity  first  one  and  then  another  edge.  It 
has  been  very  many  years  since  these  and 
such  like  things  occurred;  but  I  often  re 
call  them  with  vivid  distinctness,  and  in 
imagination  look  upon  and  listen  to 
them,  not  with  loud  or  suppressed  laugh 
ter  as  when  a  child,  but  with  smiles  and 
with  tears  so  fond  that  I  feel  as  if  I  could 
be  willing,  even  glad,  to  undergo  the 
old-fashioned  punishment,  if  but  for  a 
brief  little  while  I  could  go  back  to 
childhood,  and  see  for  myself,  and  see 
and  hear  Miranda  Attaway  and  Sarah 
Ann  Shy  look  up  at  dear  Old  Gus  Lawson 


(Bus  Xawson.  101 


eating  his  greens,  laugh  their  laughs, 
and  take  their  whippings  with  the  rest 
of  us. 

But  just  to  think  that  down  to  this 
time  with  all  those  grownish  girls,  some 
of  whom  were  as  pretty  and  as  lovely  as 
any  young  man  in  this  whole  world  ought 
to  wish  to  have  presented  for  his  selec 
tions,  Old  Gus  had  not  fallen  in  love! 
But  both  Sarah  Ann  and  Miranda  had 
told  him  that  the  only  reason  was  that 
his  time  had  not  yet  come. 

"The  only  differenth,  Mithter  Old 
Guth,"  Miranda  often  said,  "  ith  in  the 
timth  it  comth  on  people.  Ith  thertain 
to  come  on  you  thome  time,  ain't  it, 
Tharann?  And  then  won't  he  be  a 
thight?  I  hope  I'll  be  there  to  thee  it." 

"Certainly  it's  going  to  come  some 
time,"  answered  Sarah  Ann,  "and  when 
he's  not  expecting  it;  and  then  no  more 
crab-apples  nor  nothing  else  for  us;  be 
cause  he'll  be  for  just  loading  down  his 
sweetheart  with  them  —  Susan  Leadbetter 
or  somebody  else." 

"  You  talk,  you    jes   talk,   Sarann  Shy, 


102  ©tt>  <3u0  Xawson, 

like — like  you  thought  you  was  as  wise 
as — as  the  very  Queen  o'  Sheby!" 

"No,  I'm  not  as  wise — give  me  some 
more  salt;  these  crab-apples  are  uncom 
mon  sour.  That'll  do — No,  Mister  Old 
Gus,  I'm  not  quite  as  wise  as  all  that ;  but 
I'm  wise  enough  to  know  what  I'm  talk 
ing  about,  and  you'll  live  to  see  it.  You 
see  if  you  don't." 

And  so  he  did.  The  time  came  at  last, 
and  with  it  the.  passion,  and  in  a  way  so 
peculiar  that  it  not  only  surprised  him 
and  everybody  else,  but  troubled  his  mind 
during  a  considerable  period. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

IN  those  days  no  Georgia  boy  who 
thought  much  of  himself  failed,  by 
the  time  he  became  fourteen  or  fifteen, 
to  fall  in  love  with  some  woman  if  it  were 
only  a  schoolmistress  or  a  widow.  Yet 
htherto  Old  Gus,  so  far  as  the  female  sex 
was  concerned,  had  seemed  to  have  kept 
himself  as  cold  as  any  frog.  Some  boys 


(Bus  Xawson,  103 


who  claimed  to  know  all  that  was  worth 
knowing  about  the  human  frame  gave  it 
as  their  opinion  that  he  had  never  had 
any  gizzard;  and  JMartin  Woodall,  thir 
teen  years  old,  who  had  been  in  love 
several  times,  went  privately  one  day  to 
Dr.  Lewis,  the  physician  of  the  village, 
who  had  attended  Old  Gus  during  the 
only  spell  of  sickness  which  he  had  ever 
had,  and  asked  him  confidentially  for  his 
opinion  on  the  case;  and,  having  gotten 
it,  came  away  and  betrayed  the  secret 
which  had  thus  been  reposed  in  him. 

"Boys,  "said  Martin,  loud  enough  to 
be  heard  by  some  of  the  girls,  "  it's  so 
good  I  can't  keep  it,  but  when  I  asked 
Dr.  Lewis  he  laughed  and  said  Old  Gus 
didn't  have  even  a  sign  of  a  gizzard,  and 
he  said  that,  if  he  knew  anything  about 
the  case,  he  never  would.  But  you  all 
mustn't  say  anything  about  it,  because 
the  doctor  he  told  it  to  me  as  a  secret." 

But  a  change  came  over  Old  Gus.  He 
quit  personating  not  only  the  squirrel  but 
the  rabbit,  although  I  think  he  parted 
from  the  latter  with  some  regrets,  partic- 


104  ©ID  Gua  Xawson. 

ularly  on  account  of  the  excellent  influ 
ences  it  had  exerted  upon  the  physical 
development  of  Miranda  and  Sarah  Ann, 
who  began,  toward  the  end  of  the  year, 
to  look,  poor  little  things,  as  if  they  were 
about  to  make  something  of  a  start  at 
last.  But  he  told  them  one  day  that  he 
had  no  heart  for  such  as  that  any  more, 
and  he  looked  so  awfully  solemn  when 
he  was  telling  them  that  for  a  while  they 
felt  concern.  They  asked  him  what  was 
the  matter.  He  evaded  an  answer,  but, 
after  being  pressed,  he  let  it  come,  and 
it  was  as  solemn  in  sound  as  any  that  was 
ever  returned  from  the  oracle  of  Delphi, 
or  any  other  shrine: 

"  I  have  fell  in  love." 

All  of  us  laughed,  for  many  others  be 
sides  the  two  girls  heard  the  confession. 
Then  Sarah  Ann  and  Miranda  made  him 
go  off  with  them,  when  Miranda  asked: 

"Who  ith  it  with,  Mithter  Old  Guth  ?" 

Sarah  Ann  declared  that  Miranda  had 
taken  the  very  words  out  of  her  mouth, 
and  she  said : 

"Yes,  do,  please,  Mister  Old  Gus,  tell 


(Bus  3Law0on.  105 


us  who  it's  with.  Oh,  I  do  think  it  is  so 
interesting!  Tell  us,  Mister  Old  Gus, 
please,  quick!" 

He  looked  sorrowfully  down  upon 
them,  one  with  a  hand  in  a  pocket  of  his 
coat,  the  other  with  hers  in  that  of  his 
waistcoat,  and  answered: 

"Ah,  now,  childern,  right  there's  the 
deficulty.  I  can't." 

"Can't!  Oh,  pshaw!  You  know  you 
can,  but  you  just  won't,  and  I  think  it's 
mean  of  you." 

Then  Sarah  Ann  rammed  her  hand 
again  into  his  pocket  and  said  she  was  as 
mad  as  she  could  be.  But  Miranda  said: 

"Oh,  Mithter  Old  Guth,  I  think  you 
might  tell  me  and  Tharann,  if  for  noth 
ing  elth,  becauthe  we've  been  good  to 
you  in  letting  you  make  uth  take  tho 
many  whippinth  for  you.  Why  can't 
you  ?" 

"Because  I  don't  yit  know  myself,  not 
quite,  I  don't." 

And  then  while  they  were  laughing 
loudly,  he  went  away  and  sat  down  upon 
a  stump  where  he  pondered  for  a  long 


106  ©to  (Bus  Xawsotu 

time.  During  the  remainder  of  the  time 
he  told  nobody,  not  even  himself,  as  he 
often  said,  who  it  was  that  had  effected 
the  change  in  his  feelings  and  deport 
ment.  For  a  while  they  suspected  that  it 
might  be  Susan  Leadbetter;  but  one  day 
when  she  asked  for  his  dollar-one-and- 
nine  knife,  to  mend  her  pen,  he  took  it 
out,  unwrapped  it  slowly,  partly  ex 
tended  it  toward  her,  but  withdrew  it, 
saying: 

"  I  some  ruther  not,  Susan.  Give  me 
your  pen,  and  I'll  mend  it  well  as  I  know 
how." 

"Never  mind,  Mister  Old  Gus;  it 
makes  no  difference." 

The  fact  was  that  the  other  girls  had 
put  forward  Susan  in  order  to  find  if  she 
was  his  flame.  She  went  away  laugh 
ing,  and  after  that  Susan  Leadbetter  was 
dropped  out  of  all  calculations.  For  the 
time  being,  Martin  Woodall  was  in  love 
with  Susan,  although  he  had  not  the  cour 
age  to  tell  her  so  in  words;  therefore  he 
was  glad  of  the  happening  of  this  inci 
dent,  and  said : 


<3us  Xawson.  107 


"  It  may  be  the  old  fellow  is  beginnin' 
to  have  some  sort  of  a  gizzard;  but  I 
doubt  if  it  ever  comes  to  anything  worth 
speakin'  about." 

Considering  the  indefiniteness  of  its 
origin,  it  was  indeed  a  very  noticeable 
change.  Occasionally  Miranda  or  Sarah 
Ann  drew  from  him  a  smile,  which,  how 
ever,  was  more  woebegone  than  his 
habitual  lugubrious  expression.  But 
they  never  could  induce  him  to  repeat 
the  thrilling  performances  which,  with 
such  varying  attendant  circumstances, 
they  had  witnessed  so  often.  Instead 
thereof  he  usually  sat  at  his  desk  almost 
motionless  during  school  hours,  in  which 
time  he  looked  at  the  two  girls  with  a 
look  which  was  so  mournful  and  so  far 
away  that  occasionally  they  broke  forth 
into  the  giggling,  one  of  the  results  of 
which  had  been  so  benign  that  he  was 
thankful  for  their  sakes  that  they  were 
not  suspended  entirely.  His  pockets 
came  as  usual  weighted  with  cargoes; 
and  after  they  were  discharged,  like  any 
patient  camel  whose  burden  had  been  re- 
8 


108  ©ID  (Bus  Xawsotu 

moved,  he  slowly  went  off  to  himself. 
One  day  Miranda,  impatient  at  such  con 
duct,  said  to  him: 

"Mithter  Old  Guth  Lawthin,  I  declare 
your  conduct  ith  thimply  oudathoth. 
What  makth  you  won't  do  thothe  funny 
thingth  any  more?  I  think  ith  mean  ath 
can  be!" 

Hauling  out  handfuls  of  goodies  and 
emptying  them  into  her  apron,  he  said: 

"  No,  M'randy,  I  ain't,  that  is,  I  hope 
1  ain't,  so  powerful  mean.  But  a  man 
person  who  he  have  once't  fell  in  love 
th'ough  and  th'ough,  like  I  am  now,  he 
don't  feel  like  doin'  them  things." 

"You  don't  feel  like  it!"  she  replied 
with  disdain,  as  she  cracked  one  of  his 
chestnuts.  "  My  opinion  ith,  your  con- 
thinth  hurt  you  for  making  me  an'  Thar- 
ann  get  tho  many  whippinth.  But  we 
never  minded  that,  did  we,  Tharann  ?" 

"Of  course  not;  I'd  be  willing  to  take 
a  whipping  any  time  to  see  him  eat 
greens  like  a  rabbit.  If  he  was  obliged 
to  do  something,  he  might  be  satisfied  to 
take  away  our  squir'l,  but  it  was  a  sin 


©ID  <3us  Xawson.  109 

and  a  shame  not  to  leave  us  our  rabbit. 
Hand  me  out  some  more  of  those  biggest 
chestnuts.  Your  hand  can  get  'em  more 
convenient  than  mine  can." 

"Me  too,"  said  Miranda.  "  Mithter 
Old  Guth  Lawthin,  'you  know  I  think 
your  being  in  love  ith  moth  ath  funny 
ath  the  rabbit  ?  I  know  ith  ath  funny  ath 
the  thquirrel.  Who  ith  it  with,  we  keep 
on  athking  you." 

Driven  to  the  very  wall,  he  answered 
in  sorely  pleading  tones:  "I  jes'  cant, 
M'randy,  because  I  don't  know  myself. 
I  wish  I  could,  and  I  wish  I  did;  but  if 
I  did  know  who  it  was,  you  ain't  big 
enough  to  understand  the  feelin'." 

She  regarded  him  for  a  moment  with 
scorn,  as  the  grinding  of  her  chestnut 
was  suspended.  Perhaps  reflecting  that 
his  ignorance  of  her  capacity  merited 
compassion  rather  than  resentment,  her 
grinding  was  resumed,  and  she  an 
swered  : 

"  Right  there  you  are  mithtakened, 
thir,  if  you  only  but  knew  it.  The  very 
i-dea!  Why  I  take  the  greateth  delight  in 


no  ©i&  ©us  Xawson. 


hearing  about  love  thtories,  and  I  under- 
thand  'em  well  ath  you  do,  and  better 
too;  becauth,  if  I  wath  to  fall  in  love, 
I'd  know  who  it  wath  with,  and  you 
don't.  I  never  heard,  and  I  never  even 
read  of  thuch  a  cathe.  Lawth!  Mithter 
Old  Guth  Lawthin,  do  try  to  thtop  thome 
of  that  foolithneth,  and  let  me  and 
Tharann  have  thome  fun.  People  are 
talking  and  laughing  about  you  going  on 
ath  you  do  and  hurting  me  and  Tharann'th 
feelingth,  when  we  are  doing  our  betht 
to  keep  you  from  dithgrathe;  and  even 
Martin  Woodall,  thath  alwayth  been 
thuch  a  big  man,  he  have  to  be  going 
about  telling  people  that  you  haven't  got 
any  githarth,  or  motht  none  at  all,  a- 
knowing  no  better  that  nobody  excepth 
chickenth  hath  githarth.  But  thuch  ath 
that  makth  me  and  Tharann  athamed  of 
ourthelvth,  and  we  don't  know  what  to 
thay.  Here,  tie  up  inthith  handkerchief 
thome  of  thothe  betht  chinkapinth,  and 
do  thop  your  foolithneth,  becauthe,  I  tell 
you  now,  it  maketh  me  and  Tharann  per 
fect  mitherable.  Don't  it,  Tharann?" 


<3us  Xawson.  in 


Sarah  Ann's  jaws  were  tired,  but  she 
managed  to  answer: 

"  That  it  does.  He  has  actually  got  to 
that,  if  it  wasn't  for  his  pockets,  I  actually 
don't  know  what  we  would  do." 

"  The  good  laws  !"  he  pleaded  pitifully, 
"  How  is  a  body  to  stop  sech  as  that  ? 
Why  he  can't  no  more  do  it  than  he  can 
stop  the  measles  —  not  until  the  things 
break  out  on  him." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Miranda,  "  I  with 
they'd  break  out  on  you,  if  that  ith 
what'th  the  matter  with  you." 


CHAPTER    V. 

AT  the  end  of  the  term  Old  Gus  took 
his  final,  most  melancholy  leave 
of  the  school.  After  this  he  kept  him 
self  more  closely  at  home  than  ever  be 
fore,  and  delighted  his  mother  with  the 
new  interest  shown  by  him  in  work.  If 
Martin  Woodall  had  been  entirely  fair 
in  giving  expression  to  his  opinions,  he 
would  have  been  obliged  to  admit  that, 


112  ©ID  <3us  Olawscm. 

however  abnormal  in  his  anatomical 
structure,  the  old  fellow  gave  promise  of 
making  a  man  in  some  important  ele 
ments  of  his  being.  He  showed  especial 
interest  in  the  growth  of  the  young 
among  domestic  animals.  Often  he 
said: 

"  Ma,  I  jes  loves  to  see  young  things 
a-growin',  if  it  ain't  nothin'  but  a  pig,  or 
a  chicken,  or  a  peachy-tree  sprout,  be 
cause  they  ain't  no  tellin'  what  they 
goin'  to  pejuce  if  they're  took  keer  of." 

His  mother  had  been  saying  all  along 
that  she  had  never  a  doubt  but  that  'Gus- 
tus  would  make  a  man  some  day  when 
the  time  came;  for  his  father  before  him 
had  been  just  such  a  boy,  and  everybody 
that  knew  him  said  that  he  was  one  of 
the  best  that  ever  was  born.  And  so  he 
kept  on  for  three  years,  attending  with 
reasonable  diligence  to  all  work  that  his 
hands  found  to  be  conveniently  necessary, 
his  walk  and  conversation  being  marked 
by  sobriety  rather  than  the  deep  solemnity 
that  had  been  brought  on  by  the  first  un 
expected  attack  upon  his  tenderest  feel- 


(Bus  Xaweon.  113 


ings.  It  was  not  often  that  he  met  either 
Sarah  Ann  or  Miranda;  for,  as  the  time 
elapsed,  he  more  seldom  left  home.  But 
he  was  thankful  to  hear  from  time  to 
time  that  the  development  which  he  had 
contributed  so  liberally  to  foster  was  go 
ing  on  without  much  complaint.  When 
ever  he  met  either,  if  she  happened  to 
rally  him  for  what  he  had  made  her 
suffer  for  his  pranks,  he  answered: 

"And  you  know  jest  as  well  as  I  do 
that  I  done  'em  for  your  good,  and  you  got 
the  good  of  'em,  and  you  started  on  the 
growin'  you  both  of  you  needed,  and  I'm 
monstrous  thankful  you've  kept  it  up." 

One  Sunday  after  meeting,  together 
they  met  him,  and  asked  if  he  had  ever 
found  out  who  it  was  he  v/as  in  love 
with. 

"Notyit,"he  answered.  "Not  quite 
yit;  but  my  feelin's  is  that  it'll  come 
after  a  while.  I  ain't  in  a  hurry 
about  it." 

"  And  what  do  you  do  mothly  thethe 
dayth,  Mithter  Old  Guth?"  asked  Mir 
anda. 


114 


"Oh,  I'm  mostly  raisin'  chickens  and 
sich." 

"And  do  they  grow  to  your  thatithfac- 
tion  ?" 

"It's  differ'nt  among  'em,  M'randy. 
Some  of  'em  is  rapid,  and  some  is  ruther 
mod'rate,  like  you  and  Sarann. " 

When  he  had  gone,  Sarah  Ann  said : 

"  Was  there  ever  such  a  case  in  the 
world  ?" 

"  It  ith  curiouth,  and  ith  the  funnieth 
love  cathe  I  ever  heard  anything  about. 
But,  Tharann,  thinthe  he  quit  thchool, 
it  theemthtome  he'th  thome  handthomer 
than  he  uthed  to  be,  and  hath  better 
mannerth. " 

"Yes,  no  doubt  about  that.  Indeed, 
I  think  he's  got  to  be  very  passable. 
But  I  do  wish  the  old  fellow  would  come 
back  to  school,  where  we  could  see  some 
of  the  fun  we  used  to  have. " 

"Ah,  well!  I  thuppoth  it  ain't  betht 
to  have  fun  at  thchool  alwayth.  Juth 
to  think!  It'th  three  whole  yearth 
thinthe  Mithter  Old  Guth  left  uth.  I 
wonder  if  we'll  ever  be  ath  happy  again, 


©15  <3u0  Xaweon.  us 

Tharann.  Ma  thay  I've  got  to  quit 
tchool  after  thith  year  and  learn  how  to 
work  and  keep  houthe.  It  makth  me 
thad  to  think  about  it,  thometimeth." 

"That's  what  they  say  about  me. 
Well,  since  Mister  Old  Gus  quit,  I've 
seen  so  little  fun  that  I'm  ready  to 
stop  whenever  the  word  comes." 

In  those  times  country  girls  usually 
got  their  full  growth  by  the  time  they 
were  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  old,  and  it 
was  thought  well  for  them  to  leave  school 
to  begin  to  learn  all  about  domestic 
work,  and,  if  a  good  opportunitypresented 
itself,  to  get  married.  Within  these 
three  years  Miranda  and  Sarah  Ann  had 
improved  much  every  way.  Miranda, 
though  yet  rather  small,  was  plump  as 
any  partridge,  and  to  some  looked  even 
sweeter.  Sarah  Ann  was  large  and  lus 
cious.  Both  had  become  more  serious, 
and  Mr.  Hodge  said  openly  that  he  had 
never  turned  out  two  girls  who  were 
better  scholars.  They  left  school  with 
out  complaint,  and  went  cheerfully  to 
work.  For  some  time  before  the  end  of 


116  ©i&  <3us  Xawson. 

their  last  term  neither  of  them  had  seen 
Old  Gus.  He  had  been  keeping  himself 
for  the  most  part  about  home,  and  every 
body  was  talking  about  what  a  fine, 
domestic  person  he  was  getting  to  be. 
As  for  Susan  Leadbetter,  she  had  been 
married  long  ago  and  moved  away  some 
where  on  the  other  side  of  the  Oconee. 
The  world,  they  say,  waits  for  nobody. 
Yet  Old  Gus,  patient  as  the  longest  days, 
had  been  waiting,  waiting,  waiting,  and 
not  even  his  mother  ever  heard  a  word  of 
complaint  from  his  mouth. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

A  QUIET,  harmless  life  was  that  dur 
ing  these  three  years.  By  slow 
gradations  Old  Gus  had  taken  into  his 
hands  the  conduct  of  plantation  business, 
and  was  making  as  respectable  crops  as 
any.  During  this  time,  few  summer 
evenings  had  been  more  serene  than  his 
life.  Yet,  not  long  after  the  last  school 
term,  his  mother  suspected  that  she 


<3u6  Xawson,  117 


noticed  some  little  restlessness  in  his  de 
portment.  Occasionally  at  night,  after 
decently  getting  through  with  his 
chicken,  biscuit,  and  coffee,  he  would 
look  sternly  and  mysteriously  at  his  sau 
cer  of  clabber,  and  then,  leaving  it  un 
touched,  rise,  go  out,  and  walk  a  while  on 
the  piazza  or  in  the  yard.  His  mother  did 
not  think  it  best  to  allude  to  these  symp 
toms,  but  waited  to  see  what  was  to  come 
of  them,  trusting,  as  had  been  her  habit 
always,  for  the  best.  One  night  after 
supper  he  sat  a  long  while  in  silence. 
Just  before  it  was  time  to  light  his  candle 
and  go  to  bed  he  said  : 

"  Ma,  somethin'  inside  o'  me  have  been 
a-workin'  like  it  want  to  break  out 
on  me." 

"Why,  'Gustus,  my  son,  the  measles  ts 
in  the  neighborhood,  but  I  hain't  been 
afraid  of  you  a-ketchin'  'em,  because  you 
had  'em,  and  them  thick  as  hops,  as  the 
sayin*  is,  when  you  weren't  more  than 
eight  year  old.  But  sometimes  people 
does  have  the  things  twice't.  I'll  make 
some  tansy  bitters  to-morrow,  and  have 


118  ©is  <3u0  Xawson, 

it  ready  to  fetch  'em  out  if  it's 
them." 

Little  else  was  said  upon  the  subject. 
At  breakfast  the  next  morning  his  mother 
noticed  nothing  out  of  the  usual  way  ex 
cept  that  he  had  on  his  linen  shirt  and 
looked  a  trifle  bashful.  She  was  not 
alarmed,  however,  because  he  put  in  a 
reasonably  hearty  meal.  When  it  was 
over,  taking  his  hat,  he  said: 

"Ma,  I'm  goin'  to  step  over  to  the 
Attaways  awhile  this  mornin',  and  I  may 
go  on  as  fur  as  the  Shys  before  I  turn 
back;  but  I'm  toler'ble  certain  of  gittin' 
back  by  dinner-time." 

"All  right,  my  son;  but  as  you  hain't 
been  a-feelin'  very  well  here  lately,  if  I 
was  in  your  place  I'd  try  and  not  git 
over-net. " 

"I'll  try  to  keep  reason'ble  cool,"  he 
answered  to  her  affectionate  admoni 
tion. 

He  walked  on  to  the  Attaways  neither 
fast  nor  slow.  Arrived  there,  he  found 
Miranda,  after  having  put  away  the 
breakfast  things,  getting  ready  to  begin 


(Bus  Xaweon.  no 


on  a  pair  of  trousers  that  her  mother  had 
just  cut  for  one  of  the  negroes. 

"Why,  if  it  ain't  Mithter  Old  Guth!" 
she  said.  "I'm  glad  to  thee  you.  Take 
a  theat,  won't  you?" 

He  seated  himself,  and  as  soon  as  he 
had  an  opportunity  for  a  special  remark, 
said: 

"M'randy,  I  found  out  who  it  is;  or 
at  leastways  I  think  I  have." 

"Who  it  ith  what,  Mithter  Old  Guth?" 

And  when  she  asked  the  question  she 
knew  just  as  well  as  he  did;  for  she 
blushed,  and  her  fingers  trembled  while 
she  was  threading  her  needle. 

"Who  I'm  in  love  with.  Come  now, 
don't  go  to  makin'  out  you  don't  know 
what's  been  the  matter  with  me  all  this 
long  time,  M'randy.  I  thought  by  this 
time  you  got  old  enough,  if  not  quite 
big  enough,  to  understand  what  made 
me  so  solemn  them  last  days  I  were  at 
school,  a-knowin'  you  weren't  old  enough 
then  for  sech  as  you  to  understand  how 
dead  in  love  I  fell  with  you  and  Sarann.  " 

"  With  me  and  Tharann  ?  " 


120  ©ID  (Bus  Xawson. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  looking  toward 
her  with  moderate  interest.  "  You  and 
Sarann.  Thar  was  the  de-ficulty.  I 
couldn't  tell  in  my  mind  which  was  from 
which.  Sometimes  when  I  has  heard  Sar- 
ann's  big,  loud  haw-haw,  and  see  her 
nice  white  teeth,  I  thought't  were  her; 
but  then  when  you'd  look  up  at  me  and 
say  somethin'  with  your  little  tongue- 
tied  voices,  and  the  cold  chills,  or 
ruther,  I  might  say,  the  warm  chills  run 
all  over  me,  I  says  to  myself,  'No;  it 
must  be  M'randy. '  And  so  now,  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge,  I  think  it's  you. 
And  besides,  you  live  closeter  to  us, 
and  it's  conven'enter.  And  so  here  I 
am." 

Miranda,  now  red  as  a  June  apple, 
threw  down  her  work,  and,  looking  at 
him  with  glittering  eyes,  said: 

"I'd  have  no  man  on  the  top  of  the 
ground  that  came  at  me  a-courting  me  in 
thuch  a — myththeriouth  thort  of  way!" 

"Oh,  well  then,"  he  replied  resignedly; 
"I  thought  I'd  try  you  first.  If  I  don't 
suit  you,  M'randy,  I'll  peruse  on  to  the 


<3u0  Xawson.  121 


Shys  and  see  if  I  can  do  anything  with 
Sarann." 

He  turned  his  head,  as  if  looking  for 
the  place  where  he  had  put  his  hat. 

"I  never  thaw  thuch  a  perthon!  "said 
Miranda,  almost  crying,  "  that  he  take  a 
girl  by  thurprithe,  and  before  thee  have 
time  to  even  think  about  what  he  thay 
to  her,  flare  up  mad  becauthe  —  be- 
cauthe  -  " 

"Now,  right  there,  M'  randy,"  mildly 
interrupting  her,  "you're  mistakened  in 
your  mind  about  my  flarin'  up  mad.  I 
ain't  mad;  and  as  you  say  you  been  took 
by  surprise,  I'm  goin'  back  home,  and 
I'm  goin'  to  stay  there  one  whole,  solid 
week,  and  then  I'm  a-comin'  back.  What 
do  you  say,  M'randy?" 

"  I  thay  you  do  jutht  ath  you  pleathe. 
There!" 

The  words  were  positive,  but  Old  Gus 
thought  that  he  could  see  that  the  tone 
was  subdued.  So  he  rose  and  said: 

"  Good-by,  M'randy.  I  shan't  go  to 
the  Shys  to-day;  not  to-day,  I  shan't." 

After  he   had   gone   Miranda   reported 


122  ©ID  (Bus  Xawson. 

everything  to  her  mother,  and  ended  by 
saying: 

"I  don't  care  whether  he  comth  back 
any  more  or  not;  I  juth  don't,  and  I  ath 
good  ath  told  him  tho.  Now!" 

After  some  reflection  the  mother  said : 
"  Of  course,  M'randy,  in  such  matters 
people  has  to  act  according  to  the  way 
their  feelings  is;  but  if  it  was  me,  I 
should  hisitate  before  I  turned  off  a 
young  man  that  was  of  good  respectable 
people,  and  good  prop'ty  to  boot,  and 
that  all  the  old  people  said  what  a  studdy, 
well-doing  young  man  'Gustus  Lawson 
was.  And  as  for  his  addin'  in  of  Sarann, 
that  wouldn't  be  nuther  here  nor  there 
with  me,  straightforward  person  like  him, 
that  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  didn't 
do  it  just  to  let  you  see  that  he  couldn't 
be  fooled  with  nor  neither  put  off  too 
long.  Many  a  young  man  does  such  as 
that  with  girls,  and  even  when  they're 
most  in  yearnest.  But,  of  course,  my 
daughter,  you'll  have  to  answer  ac- 
cordin'  to  your  feelings.  He  give  you 
a  plenty  of  time  to  think  about  it." 


(Sue  Xawson.  123 


On  the  morning  appointed  by  him  here 
came  on  Old  Gus,  in  whose  eyes  Miranda 
was  glad  to  think  that  she  could  observe 
some  little  eagerness. 

"Well,  M'randy?"  said  he,  after  being 
seated. 

"Mithter  Lawthin,  I've  talked  with 
ma  what  you  athed  me,  and  if  it  wathn't 
for  what  you  thaid  about  Tharann  -  " 

"Right  thar  now,  M'randy  —  right 
thar,"  he  broke  in  with  a  quickness  en 
tirely  unknown  theretofore,  "  let  me  in- 
terrup'  you.  I  had  a  talk  with  my  ma 
too,  and  ma  she  said  I  had  no  business  a 
even  namin'  of  Sarann's  name  on  sech  a 
errant,  and  if  it  had  been  her,  she  say, 
she'd  a  got  mad  as  fire  jest  like  you  did. 
And  then  ma  up  and  says  to  me:  'Gustus 
Lawson,  you  mayn't  know  it,  but  /do; 
and  it's  that  you  don't  love  Sarann  Shy, 
but  it's  Mirandy  Attaway  you're  in  love 
with,  and  has  been  in  love  with  her  ever 
sence  her  and  you  went  to  school  to  Mr. 
Hodge.  And  now  I  tell  you,  M'randy, 
that  right  thar  the  thing  broke  out  all 
over  me,  and  I  see  ma  were  right.  Not 


124  ©ID  (Bus  Xawson. 

that  I  has  any  disrespects  of  Sarann;  but 
the  one  I  want  for  myself  is  you,  and  I 
want  you  bad." 

Their  union  was  speedy,  and  it  became 
very  happy.  Many  persons  from  time  to 
time  heard  the  following  remarks: 

"  The  way  thome  women  are  alwayth 
bragging  about  their  huthbandth  ith  juth 
thimply  tirethome  to  me.  I'm  not  one 
of  that  kind  of  perthonth  mythelf;  but 
my  private  opinion  ith  I've  got  the  betht 
in  thith  whole  thtate,  and  I  don't  care 
who  knowth  I  thaid  tho. " 


An  Adventure  of  Mr.  Joel 
Bozzle. 


u  A  ND  my  opinion  is,  that  if  the  people 
1\  that  made  the  law  about  hangin' 
of  people  had  a  had  any  ideas  of  the 
thing  I  saw  in  town  to-day,  and  from 
whut  people  told  me  about  it,  they'd  of 
provided  somethin'  else  besides  a  rope 
fer  the  executin'  o'  the  law." 

This  declaration  was  made  one  night 
to  the  wife  of  his  bosom  by  Mr.  Joel 
Bozzle,  after  a  remarkable  experience 
had  by  him  on  that  day  at  the  county 
seat.  A  dweller  in  the  lower,  piney 
woods  district,  a  poor  man,  but  an  in 
dustrious  and  reasonably  thrifty  one,  he 
seldom  went  to  town.  But  this  year  his 
region  had  its  candidate  for  the  Legisla 
ture,  and  all  the  neighbors  felt  that  it 

behooved   them   to   repair  to   the   court- 
125 


126    Boventure  of  dRr.  Joel 


house  on  election  day  so  as  to  make  as 
strong  an  impression  as  possible  in  his 
behalf.  So  Mr.  Bozzle  rode  twelve  miles 
to  the  town,  entering  it  peacefully,  even 
modestly,  hitched  his  horse  at  the  very 
lowest  end  of  one  of  the  racks  in  the 
public  square,  and  then  looked  around 
him.  The  long  ride,  he  felt,  had  imparted 
to  him  a  thirst.  Not  wholly  ignorant  of 
interesting  places,  he  sighted  out  first 
the  grocery  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Harbuckle 
and,  but  neither  too  rapidly  nor  very 
slowly,  made  his  way  thither.  Quite  a 
number  of  other  voters  were  already  there 
preparing  themselves  for  the  responsi 
bilities  that  the  day  had  devolved  upon 
them.  Mr.  Bozzle  stood  for  several  mo 
ments  at  one  end  of  the  counter  and  pa 
tiently  waited  to  catch  the  eye  of  one  of 
the  bar-tenders.  When  he  had  succeeded, 
he  said,  in  a  low,  respectful  tone,  that  if 
it  was  entirely  convenient  he  would  like 
to  have  a  drink.  Contemporarily  with 
the  remark,  like  any  other  honorable 
man  would  have  done,  he  laid  his  thrip 
upon  the  counter.  When  the  decanter 


of  flfcr.  5ocl  $03312.     127 


was  brought,  he  poured  what  he  thought 
was  fair,  added  a  not  unreasonable  quan 
tity  of  water,  and  raised  the  tumbler  to 
his  lips.  Not  being,  and  never  having 
been,  one  of  that  kind  of  persons  that 
would  gulp  down  a  good  thing  at  one 
indecent  swallow,  and  then  forego  every 
pleasant  detail  in  such  a  luxury  —  more 
over,  being  a  man  that  liked  for  any 
thrip  expended  by  him  to  go  as  far  as  it 
could  —  he  was  letting  trickle  down  his 
throat  some  of  what  Mr.  Harbuckle  had 
said  was  the  best  article  that  he  had. 
Not  more,  or  but  a  little  more,  than  half 
the  potation  had  gone  to  the  place  in 
tended  for  it,  when  suddenly  a  voice 
sounded  in  his  ears  more  commanding 
than  any  that  he  remembered  to  have 
heard  in  all  his  previous  experience. 
The  words  were: 

"Cle'r  the  way  thar!  You  country 
people  think  you  got  to  do  all  the 
drinkin'  here  to-day?  If  so,  all  I  got  to 
say  some  of  you'll  find  yourself  mis- 
takened.  " 

The  voice  was  so  harsh  and  irate  that 


128    Bfcventure  of  dfcr.  5ocl  :fiSo33le. 

Mr.  Bozzle  hastily  put  down  his  tumbler 
and  looked  behind,  although  the  sound 
seemed  to  him  to  have  come  up  out  of 
the  floor.  Seeing  nothing  specially 
alarming,  and  noticing  smiles  on  the 
faces  of  some  of  the  bystanders,  he  was 
proceeding  to  lift  his  tumbler  again 
when  the  same  words  or  their  equiva 
lents  came  grating  up  his  legs  and  his 
sides,  jarring  him  so  that,  looking  down, 
he  discovered  an  object  that  he  never 
forgot.  In  a  small  vehicle,  three  feet 
by  two,  which  was  propelled  by  a  negro 
boy,  lay  a  large,  handsome  face,  covered 
with  a  luxuriant  beard.  This  seemed  to 
be  all  that  the  cart  contained,  except 
some  small  hands  at  the  extremities  of 
two  short  arms  lying  upon  a  calico  rug, 
that,  beginning  at  the  chin  of  the  occu 
pant,  extended  to  the  end.  Mr.  Har- 
buckle,  leaning  over  the  counter,  handed 
down  a  toddy  and  said: 

"Come,  Poly,  take  this,  and  don't  be 
raising  a  fuss  in  here.  Back  him  out, 
Bob,  in  the  street  where  he  can  splurge 
to  his  satisfaction." 


BDventure  of  dfcr.  5ocl  3Bo33le.     129 


"Never  you  mind,  Nick,"  said  the 
face  as  it  was  hauled  out. 

Mr.  Bozzle  had  stood  wondering  what 
use  a  mere  head  could  have,  and  what 
disposition  it  could  make  of  a  drink  of 
whiskey,  when  he  heard  from  the  out 
side,  in  yet  louder,  harsher  language: 

"  Haul  me  to  the  cote-ouse,  you 
fool." 

Mr.  Bozzle,  having  finished  his  grog, 
said  respectfully: 

"  Mr.  Harbuckle,  won't  you  please  tell 
me  what  that  thing  were?" 

"Oh,  that's  Poly  Cobble,  the  littlest, 
'flictedest  creetur  that  ever  were  born. 
They  is  mighty  nigh  nothin'  of  him,  ex- 
ceptin'  what  you  see;  but  he's  not  much 
trouble  to  people  exceptin'  for  his  sass, 
and  people,  first  one  and  then  another, 
lends  a  little  nigger  boy  to  his  mother  to 
help  take  keerof  him.  He's  sorter  trou 
blesome  sometimes;  but  law  me!  what 
is  people  to  do  with  jes'  sech  a  case?" 

Mr.  Bozzle  came  out  and,  while  he  was 
standing  still  watching  the  moving  ve 
hicle,  a  well-dressed  young  townsman, 


130    Bfcventure  of  dfcr.  3oel  :fi3o33le, 

having  on  his  hands  nothing  in  particu 
lar,  said  to  him: 

"  Dangerous  character,  sir." 

"That  so?" 

"Yes,  indeed.  People  might  take 
more  interest  in  the  pitiful  little  thing, 
'twasn't  for  his  cussedness  in  general.  I 
advise  people  he  don't  know  to  keep  clear 
of  him,  'specially  after  he  has  drunk 
thirty  or  forty  drinks  and  begins  flourish 
ing  his  pistol  around." 

If  ever  there  was  an  independent  voter 
who,  however  modest  and  inoffensive, 
felt  himself  at  liberty  to  indulge  himself 
in  a  recreation  not  too  expensive  on  elec 
tion  day,  it  was  Mr.  Bozzle.  After  de 
positing  his  vote,  he  thought  he  would 
circulate  himself  around  somewhat  be 
fore  returning  home.  There  was  but 
one  thing  that  subtracted  from  his  entire 
enjoyment  of  himself,  and  that  was  the 
little  cart  and  its  contents,  which  he  met 
oftener  than  he  cared  after  his  first  curi 
ous  study  of  him.  At  such  times  he 
freely  gave  way  to  the  vehicle,  once, 
when  the  throng  was  dense,  almost  having 


Bfcventure  of  d&r,  5oel  $033le.     131 

to  step  over  it.  Once  again,  when  he 
was  in  the  very  midst  of  a  shout  for  his 
candidate,  he  heard  beneath  him  the 
words: 

"Stop  that  hollerin',  you  fool,  for  that 
man.  He's  no  'count.  Gwine  to  be 
beat,  too." 

The  shout  died  in  Mr.  Bozzle's  throat, 
or  in  his  jaws,  as,  spreading  his  legs,  he 
hastily  let  those  fragmentary  parts  of 
humanity  get  out. 

It  was  growing  toward  that  period  of 
the  day  that  country  people  usually  call 
the  shank  of  the  evening,  when  it  occurred 
to  Mr.  Bozzle  that,  if  he  expected  to  get 
home  at  the  reasonable  hour  he  had  fixed 
in  his  mind  before  leaving,  it  was  time 
that  he  were  making  a  start  thereto.  He 
would  have  gone  before  now  but  for  a 
sort  of  fascination  in  Poly,  which,  in  spite 
of  his  awe,  an  occasional  additional 
drink  or  something  else  fastened  upon 
him.  For  half  an  hour  or  so  he  had 
followed,  at  respectful  distance,  the  cart, 
and  listened  with  eager  interest  to  the 
harsh  ejaculatory  mandate  to  people  to 


132    Bfcventure  of  fl&r,  3oel 


get  out  of  the  way.  From  one  last 
searching  look  he  was  turning  away, 
when  two  men  came  along  where  he  was 
standing,  each  with  a  chicken-cock  under 
his  arm. 

"Hello,  boys,"  said  the  young  man 
to  whom  allusion  has  been  made,  and 
who  now  was  watching  Mr.  Bozzle  with 
amused  interest,  "  going  to  have  a  fight  ?" 

"  Yes,  Frank  ;  behind  Nick  Harbuckle's 
grocery." 

"That'll  be  worth  seeing,  cert'n,  "  he 
said,  looking  at  Mr.  Bozzle  kindly.  The 
latter  glanced  up  toward  the  sun,  and 
decided,  as  it  seemed,  that  he  might 
afford  to  witness  at  least  a  portion  of  the 
coming  sport.  So  he  followed  the  game 
sters,  and  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  satis 
factory  position  near  the  cock-pit,  and 
was  pleased  to  see  the  pleasant  young 
man  come  up  and  put  himself  by  his  side. 
The  men  were  nearly  through  with  fixing 
the  gaffs,  when  coming  up  out  of  the 
ground  under  his  feet,  louder  than  at  any 
time  before,  harsher,  more  threatening, 
were  these  words: 


BDventure  of  flBr,  5oel  3Bo33le,     133 

"If  some  o'  you  country  crackers  don't 
cle'r  the  way,  and  give  people  a  chance 
to  see  this  fight,  I'm  goin'  to  shoot." 

"My  Lord!"  said  Mr.  Bozzle,  actually 
plunging  backward  until  he  reached 
Mr.  Harbuckle's  back  door. 

"Well  you  may  say,  'My  Lord!'  "  said 
the  young  man  who  followed  him. 

"  Is  they  danger  in  the  thing  a-shootin', 
shore  enough  ?" 

"  Great  deal ;  but  not  with  them  he 
knows  and  likes.  Poly  likes  me;  but 
the  mischief  is  that,  blazing  away  in  a 
crowd  like  this,  a  fellow  might  git  lead 
in  him  accidently.  I  told  you  to  look 
out  for  him." 

"Yes,  you  did,  and  I'm  a  thousand 
times  obleeged.  Won't  you  step  in  and 
have  a  drink  ?" 

"I  don't  care  if  I  do, "  he  answered 
politely. 

After  they  had  drunk,  Mr.  Bozzle 
said: 

"  Did  it  ever  shoot  anybody  in  actual 
fac' ?" 

"  If  you  hadn't  give  way  to  him  just 


134     Bfcventure  of 


now,  you'd  have  seen  if  he  did,  that  is, 
provided  a  dead  man  can  see  anything." 

"  My  Lord!  and  hain't  it  never  been 
took  up  for  it  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed;  but  law!  what's  the  use? 
Yes,  sir,  time  and  time  ag'in  has  he 
been  took  up  and  tried  for  murder  and 
found  guilty,  and  time  and  time  ag'in 
has  the  sheriff  tried  to  hang  him,  and 
had  to  give  it  up  as  a  bad  job." 

"Will  you  —  will  you  please  explain 
that  matter,  if  you  please,  sir?" 

"  Well,  my  friend,  the  gaffs  is  about 
fixed  on  them  chickens,  and  I  must  go 
back  and  try  to  git  a  place  out  o'  range 
o'  Poly's  pistol.  I'll  tell  you  how  it  is 
in  a  few  words.  He's  above  the  law, 
Poly  Cobble  is,  and  I'll  tell  you  for  why. 
You  see  the  onliest  way  the  law  have  for 
killin'  people  is  hangin'.  Well,  now, 
sir,  the  only  thing  about  Poly  Cobble 
that  have  any  solid  weight  worth  talkin' 
about  is  his  head;  and  when  the  sheriff 
puts  the  rope  'round  his  neck  and  h'ists 
him  up,  his  head  turns,  the  balance  of 
him,  what  they  is,  flops  up,  and  there 


adventure  of  flfcr*  3oel  $033^*     135 

he  hang  a-gigglin'  until  the  sheriff  out 
o'  disgust  cut  him  down,  put  him  in  his 
cart,  call  Boh,  and  order  em  to  take  them 
selves  off  out  o'  his  sight.  Bye-bye." 

Two  minutes  afterward  he  said  to 
Poly: 

"You  scared  that  piny  woods  fellow, 
Poly,  but  I  got  a  treat  out  of  him.  Can 
you  see  down  there  ?" 

"  First  rate.  Whyn't  you  make  him 
treat  me  too  ?" 

"  The  idea!  Didn't  you  see  how  he  run 
from  you?" 

"I  jes'  wanted  to  have  a  little  fun  out 
the  feller,  and  you  know  you  put  me  up 
to  it.  Lend  me  a  sebnpence  to  put  on 
that  red." 

After  the  fight  was  over,  the  young 
man  and  Poly  came  into  the  grocery,  when 
Mr.  Harbuckle  said  to  the  former: 

"  Frank,  you  had  no  business  botherin' 
that  man  so  about  Poly.  He's  a  good 
man,  if  he  is  from  the  piney  woods;  and  if 
he'd  knowed  how  you  was  projeckin' 
you'd  of  got  a  fight  on  your  hands.  He 
ain't  afeared  o'  people,  exceptin'  jes' 


136     BCwenture  of  flBr,  5oel 


sech  as  Poly,  that  he  see  he  can't  hit 
back.  And  as  for  you,  Poly,  the  next 
time  when  I've  got  customers  in  here, 
and  you  git  hauled  in  here  and  begin  on 
your  imp'dent  talk  to  people  that  don't 
know  you,  I'll  put  you  and  your  k'yart 
out'n  my  sto',  and  I'll  give  Bob  a  kick 
as  he  haul  you  off.  You  git  nary  'nother 
drink  from  me  to-day  'ithout  you  pay  for 
it  er  somebody  treat  you." 

As  both  had  been  broken  by  their  in 
vestments,  they  had  to  depart. 

Mr.  Bozzle  by  this  time  was  far  on  his 
way  home.  It  was  long  before  he  could 
be  reassured  that  somewhere,  in  the  ju 
diciary  system  of  the  State,  there  must 
not  be  a  flaw  which  hindered  its  being 
wholly  adequate  for  the  infliction  of 
proper  punishment  upon  all  varieties  of 
criminals.  But  when  he  was,  he  availed 
himself  of  the  first  good  opportunity  to 
go  to  the  court-house.  As  he  alighted 
from  his  horse  the  young  Mr.  Frank  and 
Mr.  Cobble  of  uncertain  age  were  in  front 
of  one  of  the  stores  on  the  public  square. 

"Yonder  come  your  piney-woods  man, 


of  dfcr.  3oel  $033te.     137 


Frank,"  said  Poly.  "Push  me  home, 
Bob,  right  away." 

The  vehicle  moved  off,  and  Mr.  Frank 
moved  back  into  the  store.  Mr.  Bozzle, 
entering,  asked  if  there  wasn't  a  young 
man  in  there  that  people  called  Frank. 

"He  was  in  here  jest  a  minute  ago, 
Mr.  Bozzle,  but  he  stepped  out  the  side 
door  as  if  he  was  in  a  hurry.  Do  any 
thing  for  you  to-day,  Mr.  Bozzle?" 

"No,  sir;  not  'ithout  you  could  show 
me  how  to  come  up  along  o'  that  young 
man,"  was  the  calm  answer. 

He  walked  briskly  out  at  the  side  door, 
and,  observing  Mr.  Frank  some  thirty 
yards  in  advance,  hailed  to  him.  Mr. 
Frank  broke  into  a  run,  and  so  did  Mr. 
Bozzle,  but,  after  a  five-minutes'  chase 
made  in  vain,  he  decided  to  give  it  up 
for  the  present. 

When  he  returned,  the  merchant  asked 
if  he  had  found  the  one  he  was  looking 
for;  he  answered: 

"Couldn't  quite  overtake  him." 

"  Must  have  had  some  important  busi 
ness  with  him,  Mr.  Bozzle." 


138     Bfcventure  of 


"Ruther,"  he  said,  and  after  having 
rested  a  while,  repaired  to  the  rack,  and, 
remounting  his  horse,  rode  away,  not 
quite,  but  much  nearer,  satisfied  with  his 
country's  institutions. 


A  Moccasin  Among  the 
Hobbys. 


1VERY  well  remember  Little  Joe 
Hobby,  who,  when,  I  was  a  child 
was  one  of  my  father's  near  neighbors 
and  friends.  He  was  not  so  very,  very 
little.  They  called  him  so  in  distinc 
tion  from  a  big  cousin  of  the  same  name. 
Everybody  liked  him.  Even  Maggy 
Tiller  over  and  over  again  said  that  she 
thought  a  great  deal  of  Joe.  Yet  she 
gave  her  hand  in  preference  to  the  big 
cousin,  and  so  Little  Joe,  sorrowful  as  it 
all  was,  had  to  bear  it  as  well  as  he 
could.  Maggy,  noticing  at  her  very  last 
refusal  how  hardly  he  took  it,  offered  the 
consolation  which  at  such  a  time,  if  a 
girl  would  only  reflect  for  a  moment,  is 
the  very  poorest  to  be  thought  of.  She 
told  him  to  never  mind,  for  that  it 

10  '39 


140    B  /Ifcoccasin  among  tbe 


wouldn't  be  so  very  long  before  he  would 
find  a  girl  to  suit  him  to  a  /,  and  then  he 
would  be  just  running  over  with  joy  that 
he  hadn't  married  Maggy  Tiller.  In 
deed,  Maggy  was  very  sorry  for  his  dis 
tress;  so  she  must  say  something,  and 
she  didn't  know  of  anything  better. 
Then  he  rose,  and,  after  shaking  good- 
by,  said: 

"No,  Maggy,  I  can't  get  you;  but  I'll 
never  marry  anybody  else." 

He  went  to  the  wedding  and  with  the 
other  guests  extended  congratulations, 
and  partook  with  reasonable  zest  of  the 
good  things.  Afterward  he  was  as  good 
a  neighbor  as  before,  and  a  good  cousin 
to  both.  My  father  said  —  but  of  course 
only  in  the  family  —  that  if  he  had  been 
in  Maggy  Tiller's  place  he  would  have 
taken  Little  Joe,  and  let  Big  Joe  go 
somewhere  else;  for  in  his  opinion, 
Little  Joe  was  more  of  a  man;  and  so, 
he  suspected,  thought  Maggy's  mother. 
However,  he  added,  nobody  can  ever  fore 
see  what  girls  will  do  in  such  cases. 

Joe  —  Little  Joe,  I  mean  —  tried  to  go 


B  /llboccasm  Bmong  tbe  Ibobbgs.    141 

along  about  as  he  had  been  doing  before 
his  bad  luck,  as  he  called  it;  for  he 
never  denied  a  single  thing.  But  he 
was  as  healthy  in  mind  as  in  body,  and 
he  felt  that  if  Maggy  and  the  other  Joe 
could  do  well,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned, 
they  were  entirely  welcome  to  do  so. 
Indeed,  he  was  a  better  friend  to  them 
than  Jim  Hobby,  Big  Joe's  next  older 
brother,  whom  Maggy  had  cast  aside 
also,  and  who,  in  a  pet  went  off  and  mar 
ried  Mandy  Brake,  who  wasn't  as  pretty 
as  Maggy  and  had  rather  poor  health 
besides. 

And  they  did  do  well — that  is,  moder 
ately  well.  If  Big  Joe's  industry,  man 
agement,  and  prudence  had  corresponded 
with  his  physical  proportions,  they  would 
have  done  splendidly.  As  it  was,  out  of 
the  good  piece  of  ground  which  they 
owned,  they  made  quite  enough  to  live 
on,  and  perhaps  a  trifle  over;  but  not 
nigh  what  Little  Joe,  who  continued  to 
live  with  his  mother,  contrived  to  put 
aside  yearly  for  rainy  days. 

The    two   families   lived   only   a   mile 


142    B  flfooccasln  Bmong  tbc 


apart,  and  visiting  continued  to  be  kept 
up  the  same  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
In  decent  time  after  the  birth  of  their 
baby,  Little  Joe  went  over  there  and 
handed  around  his  congratulations  again. 
When  the  baby  was  named  Joe,  he  had 
to  congratulate  again  ;  and  he  did  so,  like 
the  man  he  was.  It  may  have  seemed  to 
him  somewhat  monotonous  whenever  he 
was  there  that  the  father  was  everlast 
ingly  saying  that  in  some  points,  indeed 
in  almost  every  single  blessed  point,  he 
had  not  a  doubt  that  that  baby  was  ahead 
of  anything  of  its  age  that  could  be  found 
in  the  whole  State,  let  alone  the  county. 
"Why,  Joe,"  he  said,  more  times  than 
his  hearer  could  recall,  "Maggy'll  tell 
you  herself  that  sometimes  I  have  to 
loose  my  mule  from  the  plough  half  an 
hour  before  the  dinner-horn  blows,  I 
want  to  see  him  so  bad.  Look'ee  here, 
Joe,"  he  said  nigh  as  many  times  to  the 
baby,  "you  know  who  that  is  sitting  in 
that  chair?  You  don't?  Why,  that's 
your  cousin  Joe,  same  name  as  you.  Not 
named  after  him,  exactly,  but  all  the 


B  dfcoccastn  Bmono  tbc  1bot>t>£6.    143 

same.  Ask  cousin  Joe  if  he  don't  wish 
he  had  a  Joe  like  you." 

At  such  times  Maggy  smiled  a  little 
scold;  but  it  did  no  good.  He  would  go 
on  about  it,  and  keep  at  it,  not  even 
stopping  at  the  dinner-table,  occasionally 
getting  up  and  making  Little  Joe  get  up, 
repair  to  the  bed  or  the  cradle  whereon 
that  baby  was  lying,  and  note  how,  when 
he  was  not  crowing,  he  would  be  trying, 
just  for  the  fun  of  it,  to  ram  his  fists  or 
the  coverlet  into  his  ever-open  mouth. 
And  then  sometimes  he  would  crown  all 
by  crying  to  the  youngster  about  thus: 

"  Going  to  be  a  big  man  some  day, 
aren't  you — a  heap  bigger  than  cousin 
Joe?" 

Such  things  he  did  often,  not  from  any 
thought  of  malice  toward  his  cousin,  but 
out  of  mere  exuberance  of  the  conscious 
ness  of  his  superiority  to  him.  Little  Joe 
endured  it  all,  and  did  what  he  could  in 
simple  ways  to  help  them  along.  Once, 
when  the  baby  was  thought  to  be  danger 
ously  sick,  he  went  there  at  nights,  and, 
while  the  father  slept,  watched  with  the 


144    B  /Ifcoccaefn  Hmoncj  tbe 


mother  during  the  silent  hours.  Before 
Big  Joe  was  awake  next  morning  he 
would  be  gone  to  his  work.  During 
that  time  Jim  Hobby  never  once  came 
there.  His  wife  did,  and  wanted  to 
help;  but  Maggy,  knowing  that  she  was 
not  strong  enough  to  do  any  good,  thanked 
her  and  sent  her  home. 

One  would  think  that  such  as  that 
ought  always  to  come  to  an  end.  Some 
times  it  does,  as  in  this  case  it  did. 
Early  in  August,  when  the  baby  was 
only  a  few  weeks  old,  Big  Joe  got  sick 
himself.  People  said  it  was  from  having 
had  too  much  Fourth  of  July.  Whatever 
was  the  cause,  no  sort  of  medicine,  old 
women's  nor  doctors',  could  cure  him; 
and  so  he  died,  leaving  Maggy  a  poor 
lonesome  widow.  With  her  baby  she 
moved  back  to  her  mother's,  and  it  was 
not  so  very  long  before  she  began  to  look 
as  bright  as  ever,  and  perhaps  some 
prettier. 

I  could  not  undertake  to  say  exactly 
how  Little  Joe  felt  on  the  occasion  of 
his  cousin's  death;  but  he  said  and  he 


B  /ifcoccasm  Bmoncj  tbe  fjobb^e.    145 

did  what  was  becoming — no  more,  no 
less.  He  helped  to  put  him  away  de 
cently,  and  then  helped  Maggy  to  do 
what  was  to  be  clone  before  she  could  get 
back  to  her  native  place.  As  for  the 
baby,  while  he  did  not — because  he  could 
not — show  the  pride  which  its  father 
indulged,  yet  he  was  even  more  con 
siderate  of  its  wants.  It  was  only  a  few 
minutes'  walk  to  the  Tiller's,  and.  he 
went  there  almost  every  day.  The  devo 
tion  shown  by  him  toward  that  baby  was 
not  without  its  return,  as  it  was  not  long 
before  the  latter  showed  himself  to  be  as 
well  pleased  with  his  cousin's  society  as 
ever  he  had  been  with  that  of  his  father. 
Even  Jim  began  to  take  an  interest  which 
he  had  not  shown  in  his  brother's  life 
time. 

During  the  summer  days  of  the  follow 
ing  year,  when  Maggy's  work  took  her 
out  of  the  house,  she  put  the  baby  in  his 
cradle,  which  she  had  removed  to  a  nice 
spot  in  the  shade  of  a  large  Mogul  plum 
tree  that  stood  not  far  from  the  dairy. 
Occasionally  she  went  by  to  see  if  any 


146    B  /llboccasin  Bmong  tbe 


wood-insect  had  invaded  his  couch,  or,  if 
he  was  awake,  to  have  a  little  chat  by 
way  of  reassuring  him  against  any  sense 
of  abandonment  or  too  profound  solitude. 
For  he  was  not  one  of  those  exacting 
babies  who  are  everlastingly  wanting  to 
be  waited  on,  and  shaken  up,  and  sung 
to,  claiming  all  the  attention  they  can 
get,  and  more  besides,  not  only  in  the 
day  but  in  the  very  night.  What  that 
baby  wanted,  after  his  many  meals  and 
his  as  many  sleeps,  was  the  consciousness 
that  congenial  society  was  in  convenient 
call.  His  health  was  as  perfect  as  the 
very  morning,  and  whenever  he  cried  you 
might  feel  sure  either  that  a  pin  was 
sticking  somewhere,  or  that  something 
else  was  the  matter  which  no  grown-up 
person  could  be  expected  to  endure  with 
out  complaint.  At  such  times,  when 
Little  Joe  was  there,  he  hovered  around 
that  cradle  as  if  the  most  precious  of  his 
treasures  lay  therein. 

Such  devotion,  in  all  the  circumstances, 
must  have  touched  any  heart,  unless  it 
were  of  stone.  Yet  when,  toward  the  be- 


B  /l&occasfn  Bmoncj  tbc  1bobt>£0.    147 

ginning  of  fall,  Little  Joe  began  to  plead 
as  once  before  he  had  done  so  all  in  vain, 
Maggy  cried  and  begged  him  to  stop  it. 
He  did  as  he  was  bidden,  but  with  an  in 
ward  resolve  not  to  stop  for  good  as  long 
as  things  stood  as  they  were.  For  she 
showed  as  plainly  as  day,  even  to  the 
humble  Little  Joe,  that  she  didn't  want 
him  to  quit  coming  to  the  house,  particu 
larly  now  that  Mrs.  Jim  Hobby  had  died 
and  so  another  gloom  had  been  thrown 
over  the  family. 

"Mrs.  Tiller,"  said  my  father  one  day 
to  Maggy's  mother,  who  had  come  over 
to  our  house,  "you  tell  Maggy  from  me 
that  if  Joe  Hobby  wants  her  she's  mak 
ing  a  great  mistake  not  to  take  him. 
Between  you  and  me,  I  think  she  made 
it  before." 

"Of  course  she  did,  and  I  think  she 
knows  it;  but  you  know  she's  a  right 
young  widow,  and  she  thinks  she  ought 
to  behave  shy." 

"Pshaw!  You  tell  her  that  when  you 
told  me  that,  I  said  'Pshaw!'  — not  one 
blessed  thing  but  'Pshaw!'  ' 


148    B  flfcoccasfii  among  tbe  Ifoobbgs. 

"And  then,  you  know,  squire,  poor 
Mandy,  Jim's  wife,  is  dead  now,  and 
he'll  be  against  Joe  all  he  can.  He 
have  already  been  making  his  insinua 
tions  that  Joe  ^comes  over  to  the  house 
oftener  than  he  thinks  is  either  called  for 
or  is  perfect  delicate." 

"Confound  Jim  Hobby!  Wants  her 
himself,  and  he  isn't  worth  half  as  much 
as  his  brother.  You  tell  her  I  said  so." 

And  she  did  tell  her,  and  in  time  this 
message,  or  something  else,  seemed  to 
begin  slowly  having  some  little  effect, 
when  an  event  occurred  to  expedite  it. 

Little  Joe  would  have  been  ashamed 
to  be  called  a  hero  if  he  had  known  what 
that  meant.  Yet  in  the  action  which  I 
am  now  going  to  tell,  my  father  used  to 
say  that  there  was  as  heroic  behavior  as 
much  of  that  one  reads  of  in  the  careers 
of  those  who 

subdue 

Nations  and  bring  home  spoils  with  infinite 
Manslaughter. 

Among  venomous  reptiles  in  the  South- 


B  /IBoccasfn  Bmcmcj  tbe  Ibobbgs.    149 

ern  States,  next  to  the  rattlesnake,  the 
one  most  dreaded  is  the  moccasin.  Its 
bite,  except  upon  very  young  persons,  is 
seldom  fatal;  but  very  often  its  victim 
has  to  lose  some  portion  of  the  limb 
which  has  been  struck.  The  most  prompt 
treatment  is  necessary  to  prevent  much 
suffering  and  other  serious  consequences. 
I  shall  let  Little  Joe  speak  for  himself 
about  an  encounter  which  he  had  with 
one  of  those  reptiles. 

One  morning,  having  come  over  to  our 
house  on  some  little  matter  about  the 
line-fence,  as  he  was  ascending  the  steps 
of  the  piazza,  my  father  said: 

"Good-morning,  Joe.  Why,  hello! 
what's  the  matter  with  your  thumb,  that 
you've  got  it  wrapped  in  that  cloth?" 

"  Mornin',  squire.  Then  you  hadn't 
heard  about  my  snake  fight  ?" 

"No,  indeed.  I've  been  away  from 
home  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  getting  back 
only  last  night.  It  seems  you  got  the 
worst  of  it." 

"  I  did  for  a  while ;  but  I  come  up  with 
him  before  it  was  all  over." 


150    B  Moccasin  Bmong  tbe 


"  My  goodness,  man!  But  I'm  very 
glad  it  was  no  worse." 

"  So  am  I—  thankful  to  boot.  What 
time  it  lasted,  it  was  a  right  serious 
business,  countin'  in  my  skear,  and 
Maggy's  too." 

"  Ay,  was  Maggy  in  it  also  ?" 

"Not  in  the  fight,  she  wasn't,  but  in 
the  skear  she  were  worse  off  than  me; 
fact  is,  she  couldn't  help  it,  bein'  of  her 
own  baby." 

"My!  my!     Tell  me  about  it." 

Smoothing  tenderly  the  cloth  around 
his  thumb,  he  began: 

"  It  was  a  Thursday  three  weeks  ago. 
I  walked  over  to  Missis  Tiller's,  I  reckon 
the  sun  were  about  a  hour  or  a  hour  and 
a  half  high.  Maggy  were  a-sweepin'  the 
front  yard  about  the  gate.  Her  ma  were 
gone  over  to  Missis  Keenum's,  and  the 
baby  was  layin'  in  the  cradle  asleep  un 
der  that  big  plum-tree,  you  know,  squire, 
there  by  the  dairy." 

"Very  well.  Finest  Mogul  plum-tree 
in  the  neighborhood." 

"  Jes'  so.     Well,  soon  as  I  got  in  the 


B  dlboccastn  Bmong  tbe  Ibobbgs.    isi 

yard  and  shook  hands  with  Maggy,  I 
went  on  silent  to  see  the  baby,  who  him 
and  me  are  first-rate  friends,  we  are." 

"So  I  heard.     Go  ahead." 

"When  I  got  there,  lo  and 'behold! 
there  were  a  great  big  full-grown  high 
land  moccasin  quiled  up  on  the  baby's 
breast,  all  exception  of  his  head  and  his 
neck,  which  stood  high  up,  and  his  eyes 
a-viewin'  of  the  child,  like  he  were 
studyin'  where  he'd  begin  on  him.  I 
holloed  out,  I  did,  and  Maggy  she  come 
a-runnin'  up;  but  I  pushed  her  back  and 
told  her  to  stay  back  and  keep  silent. 
She  done  it.  She  put  one  hand  on  her 
breast  and  lifted  the  other  toward  the  sky. 
At  that  minute  Jim  come  in  the  gate,  and 
he  run  up  to  see  what  were  the  matter. 
Then  he  told  me  to  stay  there  and  watch 
the  snake  till  he  could  run  in  the  garden 
and  cut  a  forked  stick  and  prong  him 
with  it.  So  Jim  he  left,  and  the  fight 
begun.  Soon  as  the  thing  saw  me,  he 
whirled  his  head  away  from  the  baby  and 
fixed  for  a  strike  at  me.  And,  squire,  it 
were  the  fieriest,  beautifullest  thing  you 


152    B  Moccasin  Bmons  tbe 


ever  laid  your  eyes  on.  He  were  cer 
tain,  well  as  I  were,  that  it  were  a  life- 
and-death  case;  because  there  wasn't  any 
chance  for  him  to  get  away  into  the 
woods,  and  no  doubt  he  saw  fight  was 
in  me.  But  I  didn't  have  one  blessed 
thing  except  my  hands,  and  if  I'd  had  a 
stick,  the  question  would  been  what  to 
do  with  it,  him  a-layin'  there  on  the  baby. 
To  make  things  worse,  he  woke,  the  baby 
did,  and  he  begun  a-smilin'  at  me,  and  I 
were  skeared  nigh  out  of  my  senses, 
thinkin'  he  might  kick  or  throw  up  his 
hands,  so  the  snake  would  turn  on  him 
again.  Then  I  got  mad,  sure  enough, 
and  I  said  to  myself,  'No,  sir,  not  that 
baby.  If  it's  got  to  be  anybody,  it  shall 
be  me.  '  Every  time  I  made  a  grab  at 
his  neck  he  dodged  and  struck  at  me. 
Well,  sir,  it's  wonderful  how  supple  the 
thing  were.  I  thought  I  had  him  once 
or  twice,  but  he  slipped  from  my  fingers 
like  a  piece  of  ice,  and  mighty  nigh  as 
cold,  and  several  times  with  his  strike  he 
were  in  the  width  of  a  hair  of  gettin'  me. 
All  of  a  sudden  I  thought  of  my  hat  and 


B  flfooccaein  Bmons  tbc  Ibobbgs.    153 

thinks  I  to  myself,  'Blast  you,  I'll  try  to 
hive  you!'  And  I  done  it,  after  a  few 
wipes  at  him;  but  as  I  was  pressin'  him 
down  he  put  his  tooth  in  the  ball  of  my 
left-hand  thumb.  But  I  grabbed  him  by 
the  tail,  give  him  a  whirl  or  two  like  a 
whip-thong,  then,  fetchin'  a  jerk,  slung 
his  head  off.  You  know  that's  the 
quickest  way  in  the  world  to  kill  'em. 
Then  Maggy  come  up,  she  did,  and  she 
snatched  up  her  baby,  who  waskickin'  his 
level  best  at  the  fun  ;  but  I  told  her  to  lay 
him  down  for  a  minute,  take  a  twine 
string  out  of  my  coat-pocket,  and  tie  it 
tight  round  my  thumb  where  I  were 
holdin'  it.  For  don't  you  know,  squire, 
it  come  to  my  mind  that  very  minute  of 
Jay  Robert's  losin'  his  whole  thumb  three 
years  ago  that  a  moccasin  bit,  and  that 
under  the  water?  Yes,  sir,  that  it  did. 
Maggy  screamed,  but  she  done  as  I  told 
her.  Then  I  told  her  to  go  and  make  a 
pot  of  red-pepper  tea,  boilin'  hot,  not 
thinkin'  there  was  a  drop  of  sperits  in  the 
house.  Soon  as  she  got  away,  I  hauled 
out  my  knife.  I  give  it  a  wipe  or  two 


154    B  jflfcoccasfn  Bmong  tbe 


on  the  bottom  of  my  shoe,  and  then  -- 
Well,  squire,  whoever  thinks  there's  fun 
in  cuttin'  off  their  own  thumb  at  the  j'int, 
they're  welcome  to  it.  But  I  grinned 
and  got  through  with  the  job,  and  by 
that  time  Maggy's  ma  got  back.  She 
told  Maggy  to  fling  that  pepper  tea  away 
and  then  she  got  out  a  level  tumblerful 
of  whiskey  and  come  out  and  made  me 
drink  every  drop  of  it.  And  then,  while 
Maggy  was  fixin'  to  tie  up  what  was  left 
of  my  thumb,  she,  a-knowin'  I  couldn't 
carry  all  that  load  of  whiskey,  she  made 
me  go  to  bed,  and  tell  you  the  truth, 
squire,  I  never  remembered  another  thing 
till  the  next  mornin'  daybreak,  when  I 
woke  up,  callin'  for  water." 

"But  where  was  Jim  all  this  time?" 
"  They  told  me  after  it  was  all  over 
that  Jim  come  back  with  his  forked  stick, 
a-sayin'  it  took  longer  than  he  thought  to 
get  one  to  suit.  Missis  Tiller  said  she 
thanked  him,  and  told  him  that  he  better 
put  it  away  keerful,  as  it  might  come  in 
handy  next  time." 

"That's  Jim;  that's  exactly  Jim,"  said 


dfcoccasin  Bmong  tbe  Ibobbgs.    155 


my  father.  "  But,  Joe  Hobby,  don't  tell 
me  you  came  away  from  that  house  with 
out  getting  Maggy's  word,  after  what  I 
told  you  of  the  importance  of  being 
brisker  in  some  of  your  ways,  especially 
since  Jim  has  become  a  widower." 

"Oh,  no,  sir!  I  thought  it  were  a 
good  chance  to  follow  up  your  advice, 
and  I  put  in  for  her  as  well  as  I  could; 
and  she  said  that,  in  all  the  circum 
stances,  she  wasn't  sure  but  what  it 
were  her  duty." 

"That's  good!   that's  first-rate!" 

"But,  law,  squire!  she  declare  she 
must  put  off  the  weddin'  for  at  least  one 
whole  year." 

"Nonsense!  You  tell  Maggy  from 
me,  that,  after  all  you've  done  for  her 
and  that  baby,  I  say  that  I  think  it  very 
hard  to  be  putting  you  off  so  long,  and 
that  if  any  accident  was  to  happen  to  you 
in  all  that  lonesome  while  she'd  never 
forgive  herself." 

He  carried  the  words,  and  in  a  few 
days  afterward  reported  that  they  had 

compromised  on  Christmas. 
11 


A  Surprise  to  Mr.  Thompson 
Byers. 


i. 

A  MILE  above  the  village  of  Red  Oak, 
1\  in  a  snug  log-cabin,  with  a  few  acres 
bordering  on  the  creek  and  the  public 
road,  lived  the  widow  Rowell  and  her  son 
Sandy,  whose  father,  a  few  weeks  before 
his  birth,  had  been  killed  by  a  tree  which 
he  had  felled.  To  him  this  little  prop 
erty,  for  a  nominal  price,  had  been  set 
off  by  the  owner  from  his  large  tract.  A 
year  or  so  before  the  occurrences  herein 
narrated,  this  generous  neighbor  had 
deceased,  and  his  land  had  been  sold  to 
a  purchaser  named  Thompson  Byers. 
Notwithstanding  one  sore  infirmity  of  her 
son,  Mrs.  Rowell,  who  was  liked  and 
often  helped  by  her  neighbors,  lived 
reasonably  well.  She  raised  no  cotton, 


B  Surprise  to  /IBr.  3B^er0.         157 

but  depended  for  money  wherewith  to  buy 
such  needed  supplies  as  the  place  did  not 
produce,  on  the  sale  of  butter,  chickens, 
eggs,  and  such  other  things  as  could  be 
spared.  They  kept  always  a  horse  for 
ploughing  their  garden  and  patches  for 
corn,  potatoes,  and  such.  The  one  last 
there  having  died,  its  place  had  been  sup 
plied  by  a  large,  good-conditioned  mare 
named  Becky,  a  present  from  Stephen 
Shepherd,  a  life-long  friend  of  Sandy. 

The  attachment  between  mother  and 
son  was  closer,  perhaps,  because,  al 
though  at  this  period  five-and-twenty- 
yearsold,  he  was  yet,  except  in  growth  of 
stature,  a  child,  and  destined  to  continue 
so  as  long  as  he  lived.  About  five  feet 
high,  of  stout  build,  his  thick  light  hair 
covered  a  small  head,  whose  face,  in  spite 
of  its  rather  large  front  teeth,  was  hand 
some,  and  when  in  entire  repose  denoted 
much  sweetness,  as  if  in  return  for  com 
passion  he  would  like  to  render  any  ser 
vice  for  which  his  small  resources  were 
competent.  Yet  even  his  bright,  liquid 
gray  eyes  showed  that  within  was  a  tem- 


158        B  Surprise  to  dfcr, 


per  quickly  excitable  to  anger.  His  step 
was  rapid  —  seldom,  when  out  of  doors 
and  not  accompanied  by  his  mother,  or 
not  at  work,  confined  to  a  walk.  Mrs. 
Rowell  had  found  it  necessary  always  to 
curb  his  fiery  spirit  under  strict  rule,  and 
now,  while  intensely  devoted,  he  had  the 
same  dread  of  her  displeasure  as  in 
earliest  childhood.  He  not  often  went 
into  the  village  alone,  and  at  such  times 
he  hardly  needed  the  orders  not  to  delay 
after  executing  his  errand;  for  in  other 
society  than  that  of  his  mother  and 
Stephen  Shepherd,  he  seemed  to  feel  more 
or  less  of  confused  embarrassment.  He 
seldom  spoke,  except  when  delivering  his 
brief  message  or  making  known  his  sim 
ple  wants.  Talking  in  jerks,  and  with 
stammering,  seemed  a  painful  operation, 
as  if  he  were  conscious  of  the  weakness 
of  his  understanding  and  ashamed  of  not 
being  able  to  express  his  thoughts  like 
others,  and  it  was  evident  that  he  felt 
keenly  the  smiles  sometimes  indulged 
in  by  thoughtless  persons  at  his  essays, 
abortive  as  passionate. 


a  Surprise  to  /Ifor.  ^S^ere,         i-r>9 

Stephen  Shepherd  was  a  lawyer,  living 
in  his  bachelor  home  on  the  northern 
edge  of  the  village.  A  year  or  two 
younger  than  Sandy,  they  had  always 
been  warm  friends,  having  grown  up  to 
gether,  the  Shepherds  living  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  farther  out.  A  graduate  of  the 
State  College,  he  continued  to  hold  to 
his  fondness  for  the  simple  folk  and  the 
simple  things  of  his  childhood.  During 
his  college  years  the  weakling  missed 
him  sorely. 

"It  looks  like  the  child  just  longs  for 
you  when  you're  away,"  the  mother  used 
to  say  to  him  when,  shortly  after  his 
coming  home  at  a  vacation,  he  made 
them  a  visit.  It  was  only  once  in  a  long 
while,  and  that  upon  affectionate,  press 
ing  invitation,  that  Sandy  could  be  pre 
vailed  upon  to  spend  the  night  with  his 
dear  friend;  for  somehow  he  could  not 
feel  quite  at  his  ease  to  lie  down  for 
sleep  except  on  his  own  bed  in  the  little 
shed-room  behind  his  mother's.  Yet 
occasionally  Shepherd,  supported  by  Mrs. 
Rowell,  who  hoped  for  some  benefit  to 


160        B  Surprise  to  dfcr. 


him  from  such  a  change,  induced  him, 
while  on  the  homeward  return  from  the 
village,  to  tarry;  but  the  house-servant, 
on  awaking  next  morning,  would  find  his 
couch  empty,  its  occupant,  becoming 
home-sick,  having  stolen  away  at  the 
dawn. 

Mrs.  Rowell,  ever  since  Shepherd  had 
settled  and  become  a  lawyer,  had  been 
going  to  him  whenever  she  believed  that 
she  needed  counsel  in  her  business.  As 
for  troubles,  but  for  her  nighest  neigh 
bor,  she  would  have  had  few  worth 
mentioning.  The  infirmity  of  her  son 
she  regarded  as  a  visitation  from  the 
good  God,  who,  she  felt  that  she  knew, 
did  not  and  could  not  mean  it  for  any 
thing  but  a  mercy,  whatever  was  its  kind. 

To  people  on  the  coming  of  Thomp 
son  Byers  to  live  there,  although  a  stout, 
well-shaped,  hearty-enough-looking  man, 
something  about  his  eyes  seemed  wrong. 
He  could  open  them  as  well  as  anybody, 
but  when  talking  about  trading,  of  which 
he  was  quite  fond,  he  did  not,  except  at 
intervals  and  for  brief  whiles.  Yet  they 


B  Surprise  to  /IBr,  3B^er0,         161 

did  not  hinder  him  from  noting  whatever 
was  for  his  own  advantage.  Billy  Ellis, 
a  young  farmer  who  lived  next  beyond 
him,  said  one  day: 

"He  wanted  that  little  corner  of  my 
land  running  into  his,  and  as  it  would 
save  rails  for  me  I  was  willing  to  let  him 
have  it.  I  knew  he  was  sharper  with  his 
eyes  shut  than  when  open,  and  so  I  thought 
I'd  watch  him  close  while  he  was  making 
his  long  winks.  You  think  he  didn't  see 
into  my  hand  and  get  the  land  for  six 
dollars  an  acre,  when  I  found  out  after 
ward  that  he'd  have  given  me  eight, 
maybe  nine?  He's  dying  to  get  Mrs. 
Rowell's  little  corner;  but  Stephen  Shep 
herd  will  have  something  to  say  about 
that,  I  guess." 

Mr.  Byers  did  want  the  land  very  much. 
For  several  months  after  taking  posses 
sion  of  the  adjoining  property  he  had 
been  very  neighborly,  doing  more  than 
his  part  of  border-fencing  and  other 
favors,  and  once,  with  friendliest  words 
and  eyes  closely  shut,  had  suggested  to 
Mrs.  Rowell  that  perhaps,  if  she  could 


162        a  Surprise  to  flfcr. 


find  a  purchaser  at  a  fair,  even  what 
might  be  called  a  good,  price,  he  wouldn't 
be  surprised  if  it  might  not  be  well 
to  sell  that  place  and  buy  another  on 
higher  ground  somewhere,  less  subject  to 
damp  influences,  and  so  forth.  She  an 
swered  with  as  much  reserve  as  her  sim 
ple,  upright  nature  could  command.  He 
appeared  to  be  satisfied  with  her  words, 
and,  after  some  other  extremely  cordial 
assurances,  went  away.  On  the  next 
day  Mrs.  Rowell,  having  some  occasion 
to  go  into  town,  called  at  Shepherd's 
office  and  reported  what  Byers  had  said. 
"Mrs.  Rowell,"  he  answered,  "do 
you  have  no  business  with  that  man  ex 
cept  through  me.  When  he  mentions  the 
subject  again,  as  he  is  sure  to  do  —  for 
Billy  Ellis  says  that  he  knows  of  his 
wanting  the  place  —  you  might  say  that 
you  might  be  tempted  to  accept  an  offer 
of  thirty,  or  say  forty,  dollars  an  acre; 
but  don't  agree  with  him  at  any  price, 
though,  of  course,  he  wouldn't  give  either 
of  those  figures.  Tell  him  that  you 
would  not  trade  on  any  terms  without  first 


Surprise  to  d&r, 


consulting  with  me.  Thompson  Byers  is 
smart,  but  not  as  much  so  as  he  thinks, 
although  Billy  says  that  he's  the  smartest 
man  he  ever  saw. " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  smiling,  "Billy 
can't  get  over  Mr.  Byers'  six  dollars  an 
acre  for  the  strip  he  sold  him,  when  he 
found  he  could  have  got  eight,  maybe 
nine." 

Mr.  Byers,  a  week  afterward,  was  dis 
gusted  with  Mrs.  Rowell's  cool,  evasive 
answer  to  his  direct  questioning. 

"Why,  Mrs.  Rowell,  you  talk  about 
such  big  figures  for  this  little  old  wet, 
crawfishy,  wore-out  scrap  of  ground  and 
your  house  hardly  fit  for  even  the  poorest 
sort  of  white  folks  to  live  in,  when  you 
know  that  good  land  all  over  the  county 
can  be  had  for  from  five  to  seven  dollars!" 

"I  don't  want  to  sell  the  place,  Mr. 
Byers.  The  land  is  good  enough  for  me 
and  Sandy,  and  so  is  the  house." 

"Yes,  and  there's  that  boy's  father's 
grave  in  your  very  garden  to  be  always 
reminding  you,  and  him  too,  if  he  had  the 
sense  to  know,  how  he  was  killed.  Seems 


164        a  Surprise  to  flfcr, 


to  me  that  people  with  the  right  sort  of 
feelings  would  want  to  get  clean  away 
from  such  a  place,  specially  when  they  can 
sell  it  for  twice  as  much  as  it's  worth,  as 
I  had  made  up  my  mind,  just  for  the  con 
venience  of  me  and  you  both,  that  I'd 
give  you  ten  dollars  an  acre,  cash." 

"  As  for  my  husband  lying  there  in  the 
garden,  about  such  things  people  are 
not  all  alike,  Mr.  Byers.  Some  prefer  to 
get  away  from  such  places;  but  I  am 
one  that  don't.  I'd  rather  stay  where  I 
can  keep  down  the  weeds  and  briars,  and 
it  has  never  done  me  any  harm,  that  I 
can  see,  nor  my  poor  boy  either." 

"Don't  you  think  it  made  an  idiot  of 
him,  madam?  —  the  whole  history  of  the 
business,  I  mean  ?" 

Then  he  shut  his  eyes  close,  as  if  he 
would  not  like  to  see  the  full  effect  of 
this  brutal  speech. 

Tears  came  into  her  eyes  as,  without 
show  of  resentment,  she  answered  : 

"  Nobody  but  you,  Mr.  Byers,  ever 
hinted  such  a  thing  as  that  to  me,  and 
I'm  thankful  to  believe  that  you  are  the 


B  Surprise  to  /IRr.  ;JBEer0.         165 

only  person  that  would  have  done  it,  or 
could  have  done  it.  1  don't  know  the 
ways  of  Providence,  although  you  appear 
to  think  you  do.  But  I  have  never  be 
lieved  for  one  single  moment,  and  I 
couldn't  be  made  to  believe,  that  that 
affliction  was  sent  upon  me  just  to  make 
me  suffer  more  than  other  people,  or  to 
drive  me  away  from  this  place,  where  I'd 
rather  live  than  anywhere  else.  I  wonder 
you  could  have  the  heart  to  say  such 
things  to  me,  Mr.  Byers. " 

"Oh,  pshaw!  I  only  meant  to  say 
something  for  your  own  good.  Maybe 
I  oughtn't  to  have  said  what  I  did  about 
Sandy." 

"If  I  ever  do  take  a  notion  to  sell," 
she  said,  as  he  rose,  "I  shall  get  Stephen 
Shepherd  to  attend  to  everything  for  me." 

"Stephen  Shepherd!  Ah  ha!  Lawyer! 
Oh,  yes!  I  know  something  about  law 
yers,  and  maybe  you  will,  in  time. 
Well,  I  only  thought  I'd  like  to  straighten 
my  line,  if  you'd  sell  on  living  terms; 
but  if  you  can  stand  it,  madam,  I  suppose 
I'll  have  to  try  to.  If  your  object  is  sim- 


166        B  Surprlee  to  flfcr.  JBgers, 

ply  to  spite  me  and  disoblige  me,  after 
all  I've  done  for  you,  you  can  do  it,  of 
course;  but  I'll  advise  you  not  to  let  any 
more  trespassing  than  you  can  help  be 
done  on  my  land.  Morning,  madam." 

"  Good-morning,  sir.  I  shall  be  care 
ful,  as  I've  always  been." 

As  he  walked  off  he  muttered: 

"  People  that  have  no  accommodation, 
nor  no  knowing  what's  best  for  their  own 
selves,  it  puts  a  man —  The  rest  was 

kept  within  his  breast.  As  he  mounted 
his  horse,  he  observed  Sandy,  who  had 
just  come  from  the  garden  with  vegeta 
bles  that  he  had  been  sent  to  gather  for 
dinner. 

"  Hello,  Elleegzander!"  cried  the  part 
ing  guest:  "hello,  Elleezgander  the 
Great!  How's  your  corporosity  this 
morning?" 

Sandy  looked  at  his  mother,  as  if  in 
quiring  what  he  must  answer. 

"  Say  nothing,  my  child." 

"  Noth'n,  sir,"  repeated  Sandy. 

Mr.  Byers  answered,  smiling,  "That's 
so,  old  fel,"  then  rode  away. 


Surprise  to  dfcr.  JS^ers.         187 


"What  he  w-want,  mammy?" 

"  He  wants  us  to  move  away  and  let 
him  have  this  place.  You  wouldn't 
want  us  to  go  to  live  anywhere  else, 
would  you,  my  dear?" 

"N-no'm,"  he  answered,  looking  re 
sentfully  at  the  back  of  the  retiring 
visitor. 

"Then  we  won't,"  she  replied,  laying 
her  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  He  looked 
up  into  her  face,  happy  at  this  assurance, 
and  to  her  eyes  seemed  beautiful,  very 
beautiful. 

After  that,  no  more  favors  were  ex 
tended  by  this  neighbor  to  the  little 
family  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  Whenever 
he  passed  the  house,  if  he  spoke  at  all, 
his  words  were  understood  by  Mrs. 
Rowell  as  gibes.  Sandy,  whenever  he 
saw  him,  looked  uneasy.  Not  that  he 
was  afraid ;  for  he  possessed  uncommon 
physical  strength  and  had  the  feeling  of 
personal  fear  of  no  man.  But  Mr.  Byers 
began  to  put  upon  them  petty  provokings 
that  incensed  him  much,  and  it  required 
pains  both  on  his  mother's  and  Shepherd's 


168        B  Surprise  to  flfor. 


part  to  appease  him.  The  Byers  part  of 
the  fence  was  not  kept  as  it  should  have 
been,  and  Sandy  had  several  times  to 
drive  out  cattle  that  had  broken  into 
their  little  pasture-field.  Hearing  of 
these,  Shepherd  hired  a  man  to  split 
the  rails  needed,  and  assist  Sandy  in 
strengthening  every  weak  point. 

"Never  mind  Mr.  Byers,  Sandy,"  he 
said.  "  Whenever  he  gets  too  bad,  you 
and  I  will  take  him  down  a  bit." 

"I  k-kin  do  that,  St-teevy,  b-by  my 
self." 

"Oh,  no!  Not  without  I  or  your 
mammy  says  so.  Hear  ?" 

"Y-yes;  I  hear." 

"All  right." 

II. 

SOME  time  during  the  still  hours  of  a 
calm,  sweet  night,  an  event  took  place  in 
the  Rowell  family  which,  though  coming 
not  entirely  without  her  expectation, 
gratified  the  mother  much,  but,  taking 
Sandy  by  surprise,  lifted  him  into  great 
delight.  In  the  morning,  a  little  before 


B  Surprise  to  dfcr.  ^5ger6,         169 

sunrise,  repairing  to  the  stable  with  pro 
vender  for  Becky,  surprised  that  she  was 
not  there  waiting  for  her  breakfast,  he 
went  out  to  look  for  her.  She  was  found 
in  a  corner  of  the  lot-fence,  bending  her 
neck  downward,  and  whinnying  affec 
tionately  to  a  little  something  on  the 
ground,  that  looked  as  if  it  would  like 
to  get  up  if  it  knew  how.  Sandy,  after  a 
moment's  gaze  of  wonder,  ran  to  his 
mother  and  almost  dragged  her  to  the 
place. 

"Why,  Sandy,  my  darling,  you  scared 
me !  Don't  you  see  it's  a  colt  that  Becky's 
got?  Oh,  I'm  so  glad!" 

The  new-comer,  after  several  essays, 
rose  to  his  legs,  that  widely  spread  them 
selves  in  order  to  hold  up  the  rest  of  him 
as  he  made  for  his  first  meal.  When 
Sandy  had  taken  in  the  situation,  he 
looked  in  frequent  quick  alternation  at 
the  colt  and  his  mother,  whose  hand  he 
yet  held.  She  was  smiling  to  see  how 
happy  he  was.  A  good  man,  even  if  he 
had  been  an  artist,  would  have  thought 
that  it  all  made  a  goodly  scene. 


170        a  Surprise  to  dfcr. 


They  named  him.  Steevy,  in  honor  of 
their  best  friend.  He  soon  learned, 
after  a  fashion,  to  repay  some  part  of  the 
great  love  of  his  owner;  for  the  mother 
said  he  was  to  be  Sandy's  own  property. 
He  grew  fast,  giving  promise  of  making 
in  time  a  good-sized,  well-bottomed,  hon 
est  horse;  and  doubtless  he  would  have 
done  so,  but  for  what  I  will  now  relate. 

As  Sandy  was  in  that  respect,  Steevy 
did  not  like  to  stay  away  from  his  dam 
too  long  at  a  time.  So  one  day,  when 
he  was  about  a  month  old,  Mrs.  Rowell 
and  Becky  went  on  a  short  visit  to  a  sick 
neighbor,  feeling  little  doubt  that  Sandy 
and  Steevy  could  take  care  of  themselves 
for  that  little  while.  No  sooner  were 
their  elders  gone,  than  these  two,  think 
ing  no  harm  of  it,  betook  themselves  to 
the  pasture,  and  were  having  all  sorts  of 
fun  possible  on  such  a  scale.  After  some 
time,  they  found  themselves  not  far  from 
the  outer  fence,  being  that  portion  which 
belonged  to  Mr.  Byers.  On  the  other 
side  were  feeding  a  couple  of  horses, 
one  of  which,  espying  Steevy,  ran 


B  Surprise  to  /Ifcr.  JBgers.         171 

whinnying  to  a  rickety  panel,  and,  push 
ing  off  several  of  the  top  rails,  crossed 
over  the  gap.  Steevy,  doubtless  mis 
taking  the  visitor  (being  of  the  same 
color)  for  his  dam,  ran  to  meet.  Sandy, 
in  alarm  and  wrath,  rushed  forth  in  loud 
imprecations,  when  the  intruder  turned 
and  made  exit,  followed  by  Steevy. 
While  scampering  along  the  edge  of  the 
adjacent  woods,  at  the  firing  of  a  shot 
gun  Steevy  fell.  The  gunner  hastily 
withdrew,  but  not  before  he  had  been 
observed  and  recognized  by  Sandy. 
When  the  spot  where  Steevy  had  fallen 
was  reached,  two  of  his  legs  were  found 
to  have  been  broken.  I  could  not  tell 
how  he  was  got  home,  how  cared  for  till 
he  died,  and  how  bemoaned  at  and  for  a 
long  time  after  the  burial.  As  his  com 
ing  had  been  the  greatest  happiness  that 
Sandy  had  ever  known,  so  his  going  be 
came  his  most  suffering  sorrow.  Even 
his  mother  shed  many  tears  at  his  pining. 
But  childhood,  particularly  that  which  is 
perpetual,  cannot  be  too  long  unhappy. 
Stephen  Shepherd  promised  him  that  the 
1? 


172         B  Surprise  to  /Ifcr. 


slayer  should  be  made  pay  enough  money 
to  purchase  another  colt,  two  more  if  he 
wanted  them,  and  so  after  a  little  while, 
like  other  people,  gifted  and  not,  adult 
and  young,  he  was  consoled  for  the  loss 
of  an  old  love  by  expectation  of  another. 

He  didn't  tell  anybody  so,  but  in  his 
heart  he  thought  that  if  the  time  was 
ever  to  come  when  Stephen  Shepherd  and 
himself  were  to  take  down  Mr.  Byers,  it 
ought  to  be  already  on  its  way. 

Not  only  did  Mr.  Byers  not  offer  con 
dolence  for  their  domestic  affliction  like 
the  other  neighbors,  but  whenever  he  was 
about  to  pass  the  Rowells'  he  put  his 
horse  into  a  canter  and  looked  straight 
before  him.  Yet,  one  morning,  not  long 
afterward,  he  paid  a  little  visit  there; 
for  the  sheriff  on  the  preceding  afternoon 
had  left  at  his  house  a  writ  from  the 
court.  After  cordial  greeting,  he  said, 
looking,  what  time  his  eyes  were  open, 
out  of  the  door: 

"Mrs.  Rowell,  I  don't  know  as  ever  1 
was  so  astonished  when  I  found  you  had 
sued  me  for  a  hundred  dollars  for  Sandy's 


21  Surprise  to  /IBr.  ^B^ers.         173 


colt,  that  somebody  told  me  was  shot  in 
my  woods.  I've  tried  to  keep  them  town 
boys  out  of  my  woods  with  their  guns,  and 
I  think  it's  hard  for  me  to  have  to  suffer 
for  their  wrong-doings,  though  I  can't 
but  doubt  it  was  an  accident.  Still,  as 
it  happened  in  my  woods,  rather  than 
have  me  and  you  bothered  with  a  law 
suit,  I  thought  I'd  come  over  and  see  if 
we  couldn't  make  some  sort  of  compro 
mise." 

Rising  from  her  seat,  with  the  air  of 
one  who  had  more  important  matters  to 
look  after,  Mrs.  Rowell  said: 

"  Mr.  Byers,  you'll  have  to  see  Stephen 
Shepherd.  I'm  thankful  that  Sandy  isn't 
here,  and  I'll  be  obliged  if  you'll  leave 
before  he  gets  back  from  where  I  sent 
him." 

He  left  immediately,  until  he  had  re 
mounted  his  horse  holding  his  eyes  open 
as  much  as  their  habit  would  allow. 
Feeling  that  it  was  now  too  late  to  do 
otherwise  than  defend  the  suit,  although 
eager  for  a  settlement,  he  went  for 
learned  counsel,  and  that  to  the  wrong 


174        B  Surprise  to  dfcr. 


man.  In  the  legal  profession,  along 
with  its  very  many  great  examples,  are 
to  be  found  always  some  who  know 
neither  how  to  counsel  in  cases,  large  or 
small,  nor  how  to  conduct  them.  Mr. 
Ryder,  the  lawyer  sought  by  Mr.  Byers, 
spoke  with  such  contempt  of  the  bare 
idea  of  a  verdict  against  him  upon  the 
testimony  of  an  imbecile,  that  he  became 
rather  ashamed  of  the  anxiety  which  he 
had  felt.  In  spite  of  all,  however,  dur 
ing  the  interval  before  the  trial,  many 
times  before  his  eyes,  opened  and  shut, 
would  appear'the  sad  ghost  of  poor  Steevy. 

"  MRS.  NANCY  ROWELL  } 

1)erSUS  \  ACTION  ON  THE  CASE." 

THOMPSON  BYERS.       ) 

The  call  was  made  in  a  loud  tone  by 
the  presiding  judge.  The  parties  an 
nouncing  themselves  ready,  a  jury  was 
empanelled.  Sandy  came  within  the 
bar  with  much  solemnity  and  was  seated 
close  to  his  mother.  Occasionally  he 
threw  up  toward  the  court  a  glance  of 
great  awe,  but  during  most  of  the  time 


B  Surprise  to  d&r.  3B£er0,         175 


his  constantly  moving  eyes  darted  alter 
nately  at  his  mother  and  his  counsel.  Mr. 
Byers  he  did  not  seem  to  notice  at  all. 
The  latter  looked  surprised  that  such 
a  crowd  had  followed  the  plaintiff  into 
the  court-room. 

Shepherd  opened  this  his  first  case  with 
the  following  statement: 

"May  it  please  the  Court:  Gentlemen 
of  the  jury,  this  is  an  action  brought  by 
Mrs.  Nancy  Rowell  to  obtain  compensa 
tion  from  Mr.  Thompson  Byers  for  the 
shooting  of  a  colt.  As  her  attorney,  I 
have  laid  the  damage  at  one  hundred  dol 
lars.  This  sum  is  admitted  to  be  more 
than  the  animal  was  worth,  although, 
for  some  reasons,  an  important  item  in 
her  little  property.  But  in  cases  like  this 
the  law  provides  for  the  injured  beyond 
mere  pecuniary  values,  by  exacting  of 
the  wrong-doer  what  is  called  smart- 
money^  when  wrongs  are  shown  to  have 
been  inflicted  in  circumstances  peculiarly 
aggravating.  Such  extra  allowance,  when 
you  have  heard  the  testimony,  I  hope  we 
shall  obtain  by  your  verdict.  I  expect — 


176        B  Surprise  to  /IRr, 


at  least  I  shall  offer — to  prove  that  this 
colt  was  shot  by  the  defendant  upon  his 
own  premises,  and  that  its  having  been 
thereon  was  due  solely  to  his  own 
neglect,  if  not  his  own  malicious  con 
trivance.  I  hope  to  make  known  the  mo 
tives  to  this  act  by  proof  of  a  series  of 
annoyances  which  he  has  put  upon  the 
plaintiff  and  her  family,  perhaps  con 
scious  of  his  power  to  violate  with  impu 
nity  the  rights  and  feelings  of  those 
whose  very  weakness  served  to  make 
them  objects  of  his  contempt.  I  shall 
offer  to  show,  further,  that  at  the  time  of 
firing  the  shot  it  appeared  that  he  was 
aware  of  the  unlawfulness  of  his  act,  or 
at  least  of  some  degree  of  risk  in  its  per 
petration.  This,  as  I  cannot  but  conclude 
was  manifested  by  his  attempt — fortu 
nately  for  my  client,  without  success — to 
screen  himself  from  observation,  by  put 
ting  himself,  immediately  thereafter,  be 
hind  the  nearest  large  tree  in  his  woods." 
Suppressed  groans  were  heard  among 
the  bystanders  during  the  pause  that  fol 
lowed  these  words.  The  opposing  counsel 


B  Surprise  to  flfcr.  JBgere.         177 


cast  threatening  frowns  all  about,  and 
his  client,  but  for  the  trembling  of  his 
eyelids,  might  have  been  taken  for  fast 
asleep. 

"These  facts,  gentlemen,"  continued 
Shepherd,  "  I  propose  to  prove  by  a  wit 
ness  who  has  been  known  to  me  inti 
mately  all  my  life,  in  whose  veracity  I 
have  as  much  confidence  as  I  have  in 
that  of  any  person  of  my  acquaintance — 
indeed,  a  witness  who  was  born,  who  has 
always  lived,  and  who  now  is,  wholly  in 
capable  of  falsehood.  If  I  do  this,  I 
shall  count  upon  your  verdict,  if  not  for 
the  full  amount  asked,  then  for  such  part 
as  your  honorable  judgments  shall  decide 
to  allow." 

Turning  from  the  jury,  he  said: 

"Sandy,  my  friend,  I'm  going  to  ask 
you  to  tell  the  court  and  jury  what  you 
know  about  Mr.  Byers  shooting  Steevy. " 

Mrs.  Rowell  taking  his  hand,  they 
arose,  and,  moving  to  the  witness-stand, 
turned  facing  the  bar  and  the  now  large 
gathering  without.  Sandy  perhaps  had 
never  kissed  the  Bible  himself,  but  he 


178        B  Surprise  to  d&r. 


had  seen  his  mother  do  so  often.  Then 
it  was  Stephen  Shepherd  who  had  asked 
him,  and  these  satisfied  him  that  it  was 
all  right. 

So,  taking  the  book,  as  he  had  been 
drilled,  he  put  it  to  his  lips,  then  handed 
it  back. 

"I  object  to  the  witness,"  said  defend 
ant's  counsel. 

"  On  what  grounds?"  asked  the  court. 

"  On  the  ground,  please  your  honor,  as 
counsel  must  know  already,  of  incom- 
petency.  " 

"  Incompetency  for  what  ?"  asked  Shep 
herd. 

"Oh,  my  brother  Shepherd!  On  the 
plain  ground  that  he  does  not  understand 
the  solemnity  nor  the  responsibility  of  an 
oath.  That's  the  'what  for.  '  " 

Then  he  turned  himself  and  looked  far 
above  everybody's  head. 

"The  court,"  replied  Shepherd,  "for 
its  own  satisfaction  will  interrogate  the 
witness.  Sandy,  my  boy,  answer  to  the 
judge.  He'll  do  right  by  you." 

Imitating  his    mother,    he    looked    up 


B  Surprise  to  jflBr,  JBgers.         179 

with  respect  that  could  not  have  been 
greater  if  he  had  expected  the  judge 
to  restore  Steevy  to  life. 

"  Sandy,  my  good  lad,"  asked  the  judge 
kindly,  "do  you  know  what  it  means  to 
swear  in  the  court-house?" 

"  N-no,  sir." 

Defendant's  counsel  again  looked 
around,  this  time  perhaps  to  read  on 
men's  faces  admiration  for  the  quick 
ness  with  which  he  had  stemmed  this  little 
flood. 

"Do  you  know,  Sandy,"  again  asked 
the  judge,  "what  would  be  done  to  you 
if  you  were  to  swear  to  a  lie  here?" 

"  N-never  t-told  no  lie  'bout  M-mis 
Byers.  He  sh-sh-shoot  Steevy,  and 
j-j-jump  h-hind  tree." 

He  was  panting,  and  his  eyes  looked 
hot  as  two  newly  molten  bullets.  Louder 
groans  and  universal  rose  amid  the 
crowd. 

"Silence /"  roared  the  sheriff. 

Mr.  Ryder,  rising  in  fury,  began  thus: 

"May  it  please  this  honorable  court! 
I  would  ask  if  it  is  the  right  of  counsel 


180        a  Surprise  to  dBr.  JBgers. 

to  seek  an  advantage  over  my  client  by 

"  Just  then,  loud  enough  to  be  heard 

by  the  speaker,  not  quite  by  the  judge, 
Shepherd  said: 

"  Mr.  Ryder,  I  suggest  that  you  be  care 
ful  how  you  speak  of  me." 

"  The  court  does  not  wish  to  hear  from 
you,  Brother  Ryder,"  said  the  judge; 
then  his  look  at  Shepherd  indicated  that 
he  would  prefer  the  withdrawal  of  the 
witness  rather  than  have  to  pronounce 
openly  upon  his  evident  incompetency. 

"  I  shall  have  to  suffer  a  non-suit, 
your  honor,"  said  Spheherd. 

Turning  toward  his  opponents  he  said, 
in  a  voice  not  high,  but  trembling  with 
indignation: 

"  Well,  sirs,  you  may  take  your  ver 
dict.  I'll  try  what  can  be  done  by  the 
grand  inquest  of  the  county  in  this  case! 
God  Almighty  is  not  going  to  allow  this 
'one  of  his  little  ones'  to  be  so  offended 
and  outraged  without  some  degree  of  sat 
isfaction!" 

Then,  in  louder  tones,  with  a  finger 
pointing  at  the  defendant,  he  said: 


B  Surprise  to  dfcr.  JBgers.         181 

"  Sandy,  come  down.  Mr.  Byers  won't 
let  you  talk.  Maybe  he  thinks  you've 
told  a  lie." 

Jerking  away  from  his  mother,  the  in 
furiated  boy  literally  threw  himself  upon 
his  adversary,  and,  when  fallen,  clutched 
his  throat.  When  his  hand  was  wrenched 
away,  diving  his  head,  he  fixed  his  teeth 
in  the  man's  shoulder.  There  they  clung, 
even  when  his  body  was  lifted  by  the 
sheriff  and  one  of  his  bailiffs,  and  they 
had  to  be  pried  apart  by  the  hands  of 
both. 

For  years  afterward,  Mr.  Ellis  was 
foud  of  talking  to  the  young  and  to 
strangers  about  these  things: 

"And  the  scaredest,  pitifullest-looking 
human  that  I  ever  saw  in  all  my  born 
days,  when  he  was  let  up,  was  that  same 
Thomp.  Byers.  And  you  ought  to've 
been  there  to  hear  the  shouting  and  the 
roaring!  The  judge  made  the  sheriff 
clear  the  court-house  quick ;  but  every 
body  could  see  that  he  were  glad  of  it.  It 
was  plain  as  day  that  God  Almighty 
made  up  his  mind  that  he' d  settle  that 


182        B  Surprise  to  /tor. 


case  himself.  We  used  to  accuse  Stephen 
Shepherd  of  setting  Sandy  on  him,  but  he 
never  would  acknowledge  it;  still,  he 
never  denied  it  out  and  out,  and  from 
that  day  law-business  began  to  pour  in 
on  him.  Thomp.  Byers  knew  better  than 
to  let  the  grand  jury  get  hold  of  him. 
Besides,  people  said  that  he  was  afraid 
all  the  time  that  Sandy  might  come  up 
with  him  on  a  sudden  some  day  and 
choke  him  to  death,  or  eat  him  up  alive. 
So  he  paid  up  the  case,  costs  and  all,  and, 
soon  as  he  could  sell  out,  he  put  off  for 
the  Mississippi.  And — would  you  be 
lieve  it  ?  it's  so — that  same  man  got  a  piece 
of  my  land  once  for  six  dollars  an  acre, 
and  I  found  out  afterward  that  he'd  have 
given  me  eight,  maybe  nine.  I  get  mad 
with  myself  every  time  I  think  about  it. 
Oh,  he  was  smart;  aheap  smarter  than 
me.  In  some  things,  /think  that  Thomp. 
Byers  was  about  as  smart  a  man  as  ever  I 
came  up  with." 


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TT  HAPPENED  YESTERDA  Y.  By  FREDERICK 
MARSHALL,  author  of  "  Claire  Brandon."  i2mo. 
Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  An  odd,  fantastic  tale,  whose  controlling  agency  is  an  occult  power 
which  the  world  thus  far  has  doubted  and  wondered  at  alternately  rather 
than  studied." — Chicago  Times. 

"A  psychological  story  of  very  powerful  interest."— Boston  Home 
Journal. 

1\/TY    GUARDIAN.        By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE,  author  of 
*YJ-      "The  Three  Miss   Kings,"   "Not  All  in  Vain,"  etc. 

I2mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  A  story  which  will,  from  first  to  last,  enlist  the  sympathies  of  the 
reader  by  its  simplicity  of  style  and  fresh,  genuine  feeling.  .  .  .  The  author 
is  an  fait  at  the  delineation  of  character." — Boston  Transcript. 

"The  dtnoument  is  all  that  the  most  ardent  romance-reader  could 
desire." — Chicago  Evening  Journal. 

New  York  :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


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*fIE   STORY  OF  PHILIP  METHUEN.     By  Mrs. 
J.  H.  NEEDELL,  author  of  "  Stephen  Ellicott's  Daugh 
ter,"  etc.     I2mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 
"The  elevation  of  Mrs.  Needell's  style,  her  power  in  the  development 
of  character,  and  her  skill  in  the  management  and  evolution  of  her  plots, 
make  her  books  thoroughly  worth  reading.  .  .  .  The  book  contains  some 
scenes  of  remarkable  strength."—  Charleston  News  and  Courier. 

METHYST  :  The  Story  of  a  Beauty.  By  CHRIS- 
TABEL  R.  COLERIDGE,  author  of  "  Lady  Betty,"  "  Tack 
o'  Lanthorn,"  etc.  I2mo.  Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth, 
$1.00. 

"  'Amethyst,'  as  a  romance,  is  neatly  worked  up,  but,  more  than  that, 
exhibits  finesse.  .  .  .  The  grace  and  elegance  of  the  author  are  con 
spicuous  ;  and  then,  too,  the  lesson  the  story  inculcates  is  an  excellent  one." 
—New  York  Times. 

T)ON  BRA  ULIO.     By  JUAN  VALERA,  author  of  "  Pepita 
-*-^     Ximenez,"  "Dona  Luz,"  etc.     Translated  from  the 
Spanish  of  "  Pasarse   de    Listo,"   by  CLARA    BELL, 
I2mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"The  exquisite  art  of  Juan  Valera  is  shown  to  perfection  in  this  novel, 
which  is  one  of  the  most  admirably  finished  studies  of  character  that  con 
temporary  literature  can  show.  The  book  charms  by  a  display  of  almost 
every  quality  of  the  novelist's  art." — Charleston  News  and  Courier. 

'HE  CHRONICLES  OF  MR.  BILL  WILLIAMS. 
(Dukesborough  Tales.)  By  RICHARD  MALCOLM 
JOHNSTON,  author  of  "Widow  Guthrie,"  etc.  I2mo. 
Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  with  Portrait  of  the  Author, 
$1.00. 

"There  is  nothing  more  racy  of  the  soil  and  more  faithful  in  local  color 
in  American  fiction  than  these  stories  of  what  Mr.  Johnston  rightly  styles 
'  the  grim  and  rude  but  hearty  old  times  of  Georgia."  " — Christian  Union. 

A  QUEEN  OF  CURDS  AND  CREAM.     By  DORO- 
•"     THEA  GERARD,  author  of  "  Orthodox,"  etc.,  and  joint 
author  of  "A  Sensitive  Plant,"  and  "  Reata."     I2mo. 
Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Romance  pure  and  simple  has  full  sway  in  Dorothea  Gerard's  new 
story,  '  A  Queen  of  Curds  and  Cream.'  The  author  has  written  nothing 
better,  and  one  may  well  doubt  if  she  has  ever  produced  anything  quite  as 
good." — Boston  Beacon. 


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New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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